Sweet Simplicity
by Eh Bien
Summary: Twilight with almost all the drama, angst, pain, grief, and rivalry omitted, by bringing the story down to its absolute essentials - cutting out some very basic elements in the process.
1. Return to Forks

It began, like so many important events in our lives, with a vision from Alice.

It was incredibly vague at first, and remained that way for a long time. We were planning a temporary move to Alaska, where we would stay a few months while Esme oversaw the renovation of our house outside Forks, Washington - the same house we'd lived in many years earlier. We had carefully deleted the identities we had assumed at our previous home, and were preparing to adopt new ones. It was something of a relief to me, because I'd been saddled with the mildly annoying given name of Kyle, on the grounds that it had been one of the most popular baby names of the year I'd supposedly been born, and therefore better able to blend into the crowd. None of the family names at that location had been favourites: For the past six years, Rosalie had been dubbed Brittany, Alice was Jennifer, Jasper was named Kevin, and Emmett was Ryan. Our alleged parents spent the time rejoicing in the purposely commonplace pseudonyms of Richard and Karen Petty. All very serviceable, but nothing to stir the poetic soul.

We were gathered together, making plans. I was trying to press for something more aesthetically pleasing this time around, especially since we hoped to make our stay in Forks a relatively long one, while Emmett was laughingly proposing Carlisle and Esme be given names apparently chosen by free-thinking parents raised on a former hippie commune, such as Rainbow or Freedom or Indigo or Sunshine.

"Who would be which?" Alice asked. Emmett frowned, not understanding. "Would Carlisle be Rainbow, and Esme be Sunshine? Or the other way around?"

"I think all those names are pretty solidly gender neutral," Jasper said, grinning.

Carlisle shook his head, amused but unimpressed. "They seem more suitable names for livestock. Of _either_ sex, as you say," he added, smiling at Jasper.

Before we could move on to more practical suggestions, Alice froze and sat quietly gazing at the far wall, with the familiar blank expression that warned us of an incoming telegram from the future. We waited patiently, and I casually listened to her thoughts as the vision continued; but Alice's mind was surprisingly cloudy. As her eyes refocused, she frowned, then held up a finger in a 'just a moment' gesture, and sank back into her vision. It was odd; the image of the future seemed to express great significance, but was almost completely blank on details. There was some implication of change, of an encounter with others, but nothing remotely specific, not even the identity of the mysterious 'others'. I saw glimpses of a man in a police uniform, a generic classroom, a rocky beach, an old red truck, but nothing concrete. Only one facet of the vision had any clarity at all: we had to be prepared to provide our true identities.

"Our _real_ names," she said when she came out of her second trance.

We all looked at one another. Carlisle turned to me, and I shrugged. The images I got from Alice's mind had been unclear to me. "'Scuse me?" Emmett replied.

"We should use our real names this time around," Alice said decisively. "All of us." Her thoughts showed a shadowy, constantly changing impression of the family facing someone, some person or persons, the only significant point being the exchange of names. Real names. It was very unlike Alice's usual precise, crystal clear predictions.

Rosalie looked confused, as did we all. "Why on earth?"

Alice seemed a little embarrassed. "I'm…not sure. But we should."

I looked at her. "It was so unclear. Could you really make anything of it?"

"Not much. Something important is going to happen. Something big - mostly good, but maybe some scary stuff too. Or maybe not." In Alice's typically colourful, rather metaphorical thought patterns, I saw an image of a blazing comet rushing to earth, aimed directly at our house in Forks. There was no real alarm associated with the image in her thoughts, however, only the sense of something massive approaching us - that, and the uncertainty about when it would arrive; and when it struck, it exploded in a shower of confetti and glitter and flower petals, not fire and brimstone. "Decisions are being made, but they haven't led wherever they're going, not quite yet. Only the first domino has been knocked over. The first of _thousands_." I looked at her, bemused, and she shrugged. "That's all I got for now, sue me!"

Carlisle studied her a moment, glanced at me for input, of which I had none, and said, "We haven't used our actual names publicly for a great many years, so there shouldn't be any paper trail to worry about. I don't see any security issues, do you?" None of us did. Besides, we trusted Alice's insights. "Very well. Since Alice finds it advisable, we shall establish identities using our original names. Does that include surnames, Alice?"

She grimaced uncertainly. "The last names don't seem as important."

"In that case, I suppose we can retain our planned cover story, including the varying surnames."

"Foster kids?" Jasper asked.

"Exactly. Jasper and Rosalie will be siblings, as planned, with the surname Hale, but with their own given names rather than whatever substitutes had been intended."

"What _were_ they supposed to be going with?" Emmett asked, "just out of curiosity."

"Ashley and Austin," Jasper replied. At Emmett's gagging noises, he protested, "We're choosing the most common names of the era, remember? And people like to give twins alliterative names."

"People are morons," Rosalie muttered darkly. "Sometimes," she added, giving Carlisle a conciliatory glance. I gave her credit - a little - for making an effort.

"I'll get on the paperwork immediately," Jasper promised, and the meeting broke up.

We thought no more of the matter for some time, although I was intrigued by Alice's mysterious half-vision. We completed our usual packing, carefully erasing our bureaucratic and digital footprints and eliminating any trace of our existence before placing our few treasured material items in storage, and travelling to Alaska. Alice experienced only one recurrence of the strangely vague, subjective future vision, a few days later, just as we were concluding our packing and preparing to leave. She sank into a trance, returned from it, and sat a moment, deep in thought. "Weird," she mused.

"Well?" Rosalie urged impatiently. "Something big?"

"Pretty big, if I'm correct, but - sorry, still very short on details." Carlisle moved closer. "It's Edward. He's…I _think_ he's going to meet his partner."

That caught everyone's attention, mine included, and we all gathered around. "His partner? Alice, do you mean…?" Esme asked.

"Yes. He's supposed to meet his mate. Fairly soon, I think, but the timeline is all jumbled. Too many variables." She frowned, clearly frustrated at the incomplete view of the future. Apparently it was _very_ vague; I couldn't make out a coherent pattern from her thoughts. A _great_ many variables, it seemed.

Esme clasped my hand excitedly. "If your vision is accurate, that truly is momentous," Carlisle said, speaking calmly, but his mind a riot of hope, relief, and exultation on my behalf. Some of his concern for my lone state, which apparently he'd tried to keep hidden, revealed itself. I was touched by his genuine concern, and Esme's, even though I found it hard to make the idea real to myself. I could not imagine myself with a mate, in the same circle of mutual affection the others shared. When I tried to picture a hypothetical mate, I came up blank. She didn't exist.

"Tanya?" Emmett asked eagerly. Only Emmett said it aloud, but I heard the same question in everyone's thoughts. I found their assumption a little irritating.

"No!" I said firmly. "_Not_ Tanya."

Esme glanced apologetically at me. "Er…_is_ it her, Alice?"

Alice scowled. "I have no ID at present. The whole thing is very patchy. I wouldn't usually have even brought up something this inconclusive, but it seemed too important not to mention."

We questioned her until she became annoyed, and we finally backed off; but she assured us she would keep us posted when it seemed appropriate. The others seemed excited by the prospect, but I found it hard to hold out any hope that her prediction would be valid. I felt even less optimistic when her vision of this outcome did not repeat itself; at least, she did not mention it again, not for a very long time.

Our plan was to stay in the vicinity of our friends - our 'cousins,' as Carlisle liked to call them - in a remote, perpetually overcast area north of Anchorage, inhabiting a nicely isolated property belonging to Tanya's coven, until we could make the more long-term move to Forks. It was a pleasant opportunity to socialize with a larger group of fellow 'vegetarians', and I looked forward to a broader range of conversation and perspectives. I knew that Carlisle, in particular, loved sharing Eleazar's learned views, and everyone enjoyed the company of the four females, lively individuals with diverse personalities. I was just a little nervous, however, following our earlier encounters with the Denali group, pleasant though they were in general. Bringing a sole, unpaired male into a gathering with three single females cannot help but cause speculation; and I could not avoid the awareness of that speculation in everyone's minds, discreet as most of them were. I also could not be unaware that, as time went on, Kate and Irina had, by some unspoken agreement among the three sisters, ceded the field to their leader, Tanya. I expected some uncomfortable moments during our upcoming stay in Alaska.

I ended up spending a fair amount of time with Tanya, and came to appreciate the level of expertise she had in the field of…what I tried to think of as simple flirtation, automatically bowdlerizing her history out of a, perhaps, misguided chivalry. While I could not say I truly respected her field of expertise - the sexual conquest of men - I could not help but recognize the well-honed skills she employed. She was adept at being provocative without obvious intent; at subtly nudging the conversation in a more personal direction; at managing the atmosphere; at using posture, facial expression, and gesture to delicately increase the intimacy of a situation; at picking up on tiny cues to determine a man's predilections and appeal to them. She was interested in me at least partly because I represented a challenge. There were few century-old vampire virgins, to begin with; and also very few males who did not easily succumb to Tanya's wiles. My resistance to her charms seemed to baffle her, and to stir her competitive spirit as well. I could have simply avoided her company, but in truth, I enjoyed our conversations, which she made sure were of interest to me; and I may, just possibly, have been entertained, and a little flattered, by her efforts. In time, she became frustrated and annoyed at my apparent immunity to her allurements. It made for some coldness between us by the time we were ready to leave Alaska.

Why was I so unresponsive to Tanya's almost universally effective maneuvers? I overheard some of my family members wondering just that, speculating on my strangely un-vampiric continence in this area. Carlisle and Esme even worried that something had gone wrong during my transformation, something that rendered me largely asexual, and it made me wonder a little. But I also knew that there were several reasons Tanya's appeal was blunted in my case. For one thing, I could read her mind, and hearing the plotting and careful strategizing behind her apparently spontaneous words and actions certainly dulled their effectiveness. I felt less like a potential romantic partner and more like a grifter's latest mark, which certainly takes the sense of starry-eyed romance out of any encounter. For another - although I felt distinctly un-gentlemanlike in thinking this way - I was more than a little put off by the sheer volume of Tanya's sexual activity. I did not really apply my human-taught sexual ethics to vampire activity, at least not consciously; but for whatever reason, the hundreds, if not thousands, of notches on Tanya's metaphorical belt had a chilling effect. What would have been, for me, a unique and life-changing experience would be just one of many for Tanya. I once found myself idly wondering what my number would be, in the long list of Tanya's conquests, should I decide to let her persuade me, and I recoiled at the idea of becoming Male #1,427. Perhaps that was mere vanity, but I confess it repelled me a bit. Yes, it _did_ cross my mind once or twice to give in to Tanya. I had been forced to listen to enough of my family's nightly rapture over the years to have some genuine interest in experiencing those delights for myself. Tanya, admittedly, did make those delights additionally interesting. But I could never quite get past my almost instinctive resistance to taking the final step.

While I never fully explained it to myself, I was clear that something held me back. Perhaps it was that I longed for a true and lasting love, such as my family enjoyed with their partners; and I did not love Tanya, nor did she regard me as a permanent fixture. She was a friend, an entertaining companion, and a charming female, but somehow she did not fulfill whatever requirements my psyche seemed to call for. It was as if I had a lock on my heart - or, as Emmett would probably put it, a lock on my invisible chastity belt - and Tanya simply did not possess the key. I admired her deftness at picking that metaphorical lock, sometimes half wished she would be successful, and even, deep inside, felt some faint stirring of life beneath the inflexible restraints, a slight loosening of the padlock's clasp, but somehow I remained unavailable to her. It was a little depressing. It made me wonder if my interminable position as third - or rather, seventh - wheel was to ever end; if it were even possible for it to end, Alice's foresight notwithstanding. I looked forward to our upcoming move in a frame of mind that was more melancholy than usual.

Arriving at the big, white house on the outskirts of Forks, newly restored under Esme's supervision, cheered me considerably. It was a familiar home, a place full of good memories, remote enough for privacy, and in a location whose climate allowed us to come and go almost as freely as humans, more than making up for living in a cultural backwater. We moved early in the summer, to give us a couple of months of free time before we had to begin the pretence of attending high school. Esme had restored the house and made some subtle but pleasing changes to the interior, and even being relegated to the smallest bedroom, up on the third floor, in what I cynically thought of as the bachelor's garret, only caused me a momentary flicker of sadness. We registered at Forks High School, giving ourselves the youngest age we thought we could carry off. Alice helped with the age aspect, dressing the alleged teenagers, me and herself in particular, in distinctly youthful clothing. It was a genuine talent of hers, and a useful one; and the wardrobe she chose for me, along with some subtle arrangement of my hair, gave me the look of a tall but callow and gangly fifteen-year-old. Alice could more easily pass for a freshman, although the need to wear such juvenile outfits irked her, and she often sighed when, on weekday mornings, she was obliged to put on yet another pleated plaid skirt with knee socks, yet another demure little white blouse with smilie-face buttons, complete with mary-janes and pink plastic hair band. "Two years," I reassured her, laughing. "Junior year, you can plausibly ease into the fashionista role again." She agreed, and relieved her frustration by giving Esme another clothing revamp.

We made one rather cautious visit, a day before moving back into the house. It might be called checking in with the landlord, and there was some debate within the family about whether it was necessary; but Carlisle insisted. All seven of us went to the border of the reserve, a few miles outside Forks, at a time when some of the older residents were nearby, and our presence would be noticed. There we waited, until one of the men, an older gentleman named Harry, noticed us standing there and approached us. It was a strange conversation. Harry seemed to simultaneously recognize who and what we were, and to flinch from the idea that it was real. His thoughts constantly cycled around the clashing ideas, that the legends he'd heard at home were actually true, and that they could not possibly be more than myths. He stared at us, conflicted, before finally attempting a casual greeting. "Can I help you folks with anything? You looking for someone?"

Carlisle smiled reassuringly. "No one in particular. Anyone who can speak for the Quileutes. We were in the area before, some time ago, and thought it best to notify all of you that we had returned."

Harry swallowed nervously. "Some time ago?" he repeated.

"Many years. We spoke to the man who was your elder at the time. We had, if you recall, an agreement to peacefully co-exist."

"Um…" Harry looked from one of us to another, his mind starting the cycle over again, along with a flash of worry that he might be the victim of an elaborate punk. "Okay, and…?"

"We want to assure you that we will continue to abide by the agreement. We will avoid crossing your boundary, and obey the necessary restrictions." Harry seemed ready to prevaricate again, and Carlisle looked him firmly in the eye. "You know what I am referring to."

Harry gave up. "I…yeah, I know. I guess. Are you really…?"

"I'm Carlisle Cullen, this is my family." Carlisle extended a hand, and Harry hesitantly took it. As they briefly shook hands, the old gentleman's eyes widened, and I heard his thoughts finally accept the reality of the situation, as he felt the cold hardness of Carlisle's hand, took in our pale, smooth skin, our unnatural stillness.

Carlisle went on, "There are two more with me than last time," gesturing to Jasper and Alice, "but they will all follow the same rules. I'm a doctor, and will be working at the local hospital." This caused Harry's eyebrows to shoot up in alarm, but he said nothing. "We will be here for only a few years, certainly no more than eight to ten years, and will do no harm to anyone in the community - or anywhere else, for that matter. Will you advise those in charge, and remind them of the treaty? We want only to be left in peace - as you agreed."

Harry stared at us a moment more. "All right. I'll tell them."

"Thank you." Carlisle nodded to Harry, and we turned and left, Harry's astonished eyes following us as we walked away.

Our first day at school was as trying as I'd expected. Jasper, in spite of having hunted all weekend, and having spent a great deal of time in crowded areas to build up his resistance, was tense and uncomfortable, and we all tried to keep an eye on him without seeming to. I had been hearing scattered speculation about the 'new kids' all morning, but when we gathered in the cafeteria, it seemed to be coming from everywhere, both in the form of audible voices and thoughts. _Who are they?_ came from several directions at once. "Here it comes," I murmured to the others.

"We've been noticed?" Alice asked.

"By nearly everyone. Any difficulties ahead?"

"Nope. Smooth sailing for now."

Forks High School was much like every other high school we had attended, which is to say, a constant mixture of crushing boredom and minor, sporadic crises. The atmosphere of gossip, personal feuds and competitions, bullying, highly charged mating rituals, and adolescent melodrama was slightly intensified by the small size of the student body, something I found unpleasant to be around, and Jasper found quite oppressive. It was harder to remain unnoticed in a small school as well, which meant we all had to stay on our toes. However, we found that, once a student was established in a handy category- like jock, nerd, princess, or what have you - it was very hard to shake that reputation, even by the most uncharacteristic behaviour. We were recognized, very early on, as the weird and antisocial but über-brainy rich kids who hung out almost exclusively with their siblings, and were thereafter left alone, apart from the usual cutting remarks made behind our backs. We were not invited to participate in school clubs or go to parties, and apart from a girl named Jessica, in a show of false bravado, asking me out on a dare, and one hyper-confident football player trying to woo Rosalie, we were left out of school social life almost entirely. That worked for us. We were impossibly well-behaved and maintained perfect grades, and so escaped the teachers' vigilance as well. We managed our high school life without giving more than a tiny fraction of our attention to it, using the otherwise wasted time to interact with one another, and depending on individual interests, to covertly read, compose music, flirt with respective spouses, write philosophical dissertations, design a fantasy baseball team, sketch a new fall line, or daydream, without much risk of interruption, either from teachers or other students.

So it went, as the months passed, then another summer, then another. My real life, such as it was, revolved around our home, the big, white house, and my family. Weekdays, and the six hours spent at Forks High School, were the wasted hours, the shadowy period when we bided our time until we could return home and be ourselves. There, we were free to move at whatever speed was convenient without slowing ourselves to human ability; hold three or four conversations at once; play games at our actual skill level; talk openly about things that had occurred fifty or more years earlier; put off pretending to be siblings or foster children or, for that matter, juveniles. Blessed by the almost perpetually cloudy weather in the area, we were free to go outdoors, visit the attractions of the nearby large cities of Seattle and Port Angeles, and the far more minor attractions of Forks itself. Alice and Rosalie enjoyed browsing for new fashions, Carlisle checking out the used bookstores, myself looking for new music. We indulged in hunts, sometimes en masse, but more often in varying groups of two or three, making them social as well as purely practical events. The others had their mates, enriching their hours in a way I could read in all their thoughts; and I had my books, my music, my rambles through the nearby wilderness, and my studies - real studies, not the dull and elementary substitutions I endured in high school. I also had, of course, my place in the family, which remained a source of happiness. I was not, unavoidably, first in anyone's heart, but assuredly a close second in some. It was enough.

It was in my junior year that some interesting developments arose. There was news that a new student was enrolling in the school mid-year: the seventeen-year-old daughter of the local police chief, Charlie Swan. In a small-town school like this one, even an extra student was exciting news; besides which, Chief Swan was a well-loved figure in Forks, and his daughter, while known to exist, had not been to visit in years and was the subject of much speculation. There was some sporadic buzz about it even weeks before she was expected. We rehashed it while sitting at the cafeteria table together at lunch time, pretending to eat. "Jessica Stanley," I reported, "is spreading a rumour that the new girl is being sent to stay with her father while her mother is in rehab for heroin."

"The girl who asked you on a date?" Emmett asked, chuckling. "Meow!"

I grimaced. "She's often unpleasant. Very competitive."

"Really?"

"In here, she is," I said, tapping my forehead. Jessica was outwardly friendly, but inclined to see other girls as rivals by definition. For a while, she saw them as rivals for _my_ affection, which led to weeks of thoughts from Jessica that were at once malicious and inappropriate.

"She's mostly insecure," Jasper said. "Her friend Lauren Mallory, _that's_ a genuinely hostile person."

I nodded. Lauren's thoughts were often poisonous. "Speaking of Lauren, she's planning some sort of retribution against one of her teachers. I was wondering if it would be appropriate to intervene."

Alice raised her eyebrows. "Violate the Prime Directive?"

I snorted, and the others laughed. "True, I suppose we should let events take their course, unless there's a risk to us. But I hate to see Mrs Goff targeted for no good reason."

"I can keep an eye out, and sabotage the plan if it gets _really_ nasty."

"Fair enough."

Emmett looked around the cafeteria. "Anything new on us, speaking of risks?"

"Not really. More plastic surgery speculation." He snickered, and Rosalie rolled her eyes. "Suspicions of cheating."

"Really?" Rose asked in surprise.

"Some of them find our straight A's a little too consistent. Otherwise, just the usual. Lots of chatter about the new student coming from Arizona in a few weeks."

Alice frowned, her eyes unfocusing for a moment. "I don't see her arriving."

Jasper turned to her. "Maybe she's delayed."

"Nope, I don't see her here at all. Not anywhere in the school building, not at any point."

"I guess her move gets cancelled after all." I said. The police chief would be disappointed. He'd apparently been telling anyone who would listen about his daughter, Bella, coming to stay with him. He'd cornered Carlisle at the hospital when he'd brought in an assault victim, and spent ten minutes relating the plan for Bella's extended stay in Forks, in his characteristic gruff, offhand manner that failed to completely disguise his delight at having his girl with him again. Carlisle had shown me the conversation in his mind afterward, finding it both amusing and touching. He was rather fond of Charlie Swan.

Rosalie glanced at the clock and rose to her feet, and we followed her out of the cafeteria, discarding the few, untouched items on our trays. I still felt odd about throwing good food away, even if it _was_ necessary to maintain the cover story. I idly pondered ways around it, as I braced myself for another biology class spent pretending to learn things I'd known for decades.


	2. Godless Killing Machines

I'd gone with Jasper for a quick, precautionary hunt. Everyone was in a fairly gregarious mood when the two of us returned home; we gathered outside in the misty gloom, watching Rosalie work on her car, talking and engaging in some minor roughhousing. After watching the sunset, we went back inside, engaging in our usual pastimes. Catching a hint of wistfulness from Esme as she passed my piano, I went to the neglected instrument and played softly, allowing the music to provide quiet background to everyone's conversation. The mood often went from placid to boisterous as activities changed or topics of conversation switched, and I joined in. As the night wore on, however, the couples began to detach themselves from the group activity, at first in their thoughts, then in reality, and move to their private quarters for the minimal daily requirement of marital bliss. Emmett and Rose said a quick goodnight and ran upstairs, hand in hand.

Seeing the party start to break up and shift into night mode, I rose from the piano and walked over to the video corner. "Anyone mind if I start a movie?" I asked, taking out a French film I'd been meaning to watch, one I'd set aside for solitary viewing because it wasn't a favourite with many of the others.

"All yours, Edward," Alice assured me, giving me a smile as she led Jasper by the hand toward the stairs. I wished them both a good night, and turned to Carlisle, who was preparing to leave for his night shift at the hospital. "Best of luck at work."

"Thank you." He smiled and laid an affectionate hand on my shoulder, and we exchanged a few words about his current cases, the hospital staff, and one or two minor concerns about our cover story and our position in Forks. It pleased me that he still turned to me for counsel on anything of importance to our family. Esme may have been first in his mind and heart, Jasper the expert on security, and Alice the most talented source of information, but I was still Carlisle's right-hand man and implicit second in command, his first-created companion and his most trusted advisor. His _son_, in almost every way possible. After a brief consultation, he once more bid me goodbye, then turned to Esme. They embraced warmly, and I casually looked away, but their thoughts reached me: intense devotion, tinged with the never-lessening daily tragedy of separation and the joyful expectation of the anxiously awaited reunion in the morning. Their unflagging mutual adoration would look wildly extravagant from a human perspective, but it was the nature of most vampire couples. Given Carlisle's preference for the night shift, he and Esme did not enjoy private time along with the others; but, as Emmett had laughingly pointed out more than once, they had the entire house to themselves most days, when the rest of us were in school.

Having seen Carlisle off at the door, sighing deeply as she watched him drive away, Esme joined me in the media room. I gestured invitingly at the DVD player. "Which one is it, dear?" she asked.

"_Une Amour de Jeunesse_." She cocked an eye at the video case in mock apprehension, and I grinned. "Nothing violent, nothing cynical," I said, knowing her preferences. "A young woman recovering from the end of her first love affair."

"Very well; I'll watch with you, if I may." She perched gracefully on the off-white sofa as I started the film. Since Carlisle had requested steady nighttime hours at the hospital, Esme was often my sole companion, once my brothers and sisters had gone off by themselves. I wondered if it might, just possibly, have been planned that way. At our previous location, I had picked up the occasional hint of pity for my solitary nights, and given Carlisle's duty schedule, having Esme keep me company would, happily, not even interfere in her and Carlisle's love life. If that was the intention, I tried to be grateful for it without allowing my feelings to lapse into petulance over being the subject of emotional largesse. It wasn't their fault I was the only single family member, and it was thoughtful of..whoever might have come up with the idea. In any case, I enjoyed Esme's company, and genuinely appreciated the opportunity to have her to myself, taking pleasure in the unusual combination of a quasi-mother-son relationship, and a fond friendship between equals, driven by shared tastes and a similar sense of humour. I glanced briefly upward as the sound of Emmett's and Rose's bedroom furniture taking a fatal hit floated through the ceiling, and turned my full attention on the movie's opening credits.

In the morning, Carlisle arrived home in time to see us off to school, describing a frantically busy night at the hospital, the tail end of the new year's accidents and overdoses. It had kept him from hearing any news, either via the television in the doctors' lounge, or through hospital staff; and none of us had watched the television since Saturday. Alice might have seen something, but she had no particular reason to keep watch over strangers in the community. So it was that we arrived at school to find some twenty students milling uncomfortably near the front door, trying to avoid the cold January rain by huddling under the entranceway, talking nervously, and several of the teachers unaccountably lurking near the entrance and looking uneasily out the windows of the principal's office. "What's going on?" Jasper whispered tensely as we parked our car and stepped out into the parking lot, his mind automatically going into security overdrive.

"Their thoughts aren't specific enough just now," I said. There was a mental chorus of _Wow, weird!_ and _Right here in Forks!, _and_ …two of them!_, but no one offered immediate details.

We automatically turned to Alice for an update. "There's been another death." Jasper looked at her in surprise. "Like the last one, they assume mauled by a bear. There's an announcement, and the principal is thinking about providing counselling…no, he's decided it's not necessary."

"Who is it - a student, a teacher?" Emmett asked in surprise.

She shook her head. "A local man. I don't think we know him."

Before the first class of the day, following the usual list of school events and schedule changes via the PA system, there was an awkward announcement. "I'm sure you've all heard about the, uh, tragic event of last night…" The principal went on to explain that a local man had died, apparently of a bear attack, the second such death in a short time, and urged students to be especially cautious about going into wooded areas until the situation was "fully resolved." Emmett glanced at me from across the room, thinking _Bears, huh? I'd be happy to deal with the problem for them!_ and I gave him a quick smile as class began.

By the end of the day, few of the students were still talking about the death of the unfortunate local. He was a man with no connection to them, and once the horror of the bear attack had been duly exclaimed over, they lost interest entirely. The police placed temporary warning signs at the entrance of area hiking trails, and the staff of nearby state parks scouted around for rogue bears who had become too bold about approaching humans. Two days later, however, we picked up a rather shocking bit of data.

We were in the cafeteria, and I was unobtrusively monitoring Jasper, who was trying for a full two weeks without hunting and now, on day twelve, was in considerable discomfort. Suddenly I took note of a conversation at a far table, where two boys and three girls were gathered, and one girl was whispering eagerly to the others. "My mom's a nurse, you know, and she was there when they brought him in. It was the weirdest thing, she said…I mean, she isn't really supposed to be talking about it, so don't repeat any of this, okay?" The others quickly assured her of their discretion. "She looked at the autopsy records, and she said he was almost completely empty! Of blood, you know? There was, like, none left in the body at all!"

I looked at the others, my expression clearly indicating something was up. "What?" Emmett asked. I nodded unobtrusively at the table in question, giving a quick, whispered summary of the conversation, and the others tuned in.

"Well…maybe he, you know, bled out on the ground," one of the boys suggested.

"Yeah, but his clothes had almost no blood on them."

This led to speculation about precisely what kind of injury would cause the draining of blood yet leave so little evidence on the victim's clothing, escalating into descriptions of spurting arteries from some forensic studies-based television show, causing squeals of dismay from one of the girls, and from there into a discussion of favourite horror movie moments, leaving morgue records safely behind. "What do you think?" I asked the table at large.

Emmett shrugged. "So, maybe not a bear. But wouldn't we have picked up on something?"

Once again, we looked at Alice. "It's in the past now," she said, "so out of my jurisdiction. But I don't see any of us in the area in the near future." 'Us' as in other vampires. "But we're in the clear; I _definitely_ don't see this getting connected to us in any way."

Jasper still looked concerned. "We should talk to Carlisle."

"Absolutely," I agreed, sighing over the necessity of attending three more pointless classes before we were free to return home and consult Carlisle on the matter. Maintaining a cover story could be very tedious.

Carlisle took the matter seriously, and shared our concern that we may have somehow overlooked the presence of vampires. He suggested we visit the site where the poor man's body had been found, and check for any lingering scent that might provide more information. We accordingly ran, at dusk, to the isolated area of riverbank where the corpse had been discovered. Our suspicions were immediately confirmed. "Two of them!" Rosalie exclaimed. "No, three!" The scent trail was cold and faint, but we were still able to make out the distinctly vampire scent leading from the spot, and to discern the particular fragrances of three separate individuals. We followed the trail due north until it reached the water and disappeared.

"Maybe they've moved on, then?" Carlisle suggested. At Jasper's urging, we scanned the surrounding area, but found nothing further. It appeared the trio had simply paused at Forks to hunt before continuing on their way. Satisfied, we returned home, although we resolved to keep a closer watch for such arrivals in the future.

Another two weeks passed without incident. The Swan girl was due to arrive on the weekend, and start school in Forks on Tuesday, but when we pulled into the parking lot on Monday morning, we once more encountered the strange, subdued gathering of students by the front door, the teachers nervously hovering by the windows. We stood casually together in a circle beside Rose's car as I tried to pick up coherent thoughts. "Another one," Alice said. "The principal's planning an announcement. Again."

Rosalie looked at her in surprise. "What? Another so-called bear attack?"

Alice scanned ahead. "That will be the conclusion of the coroner. She left the house on Saturday and never returned."

Jasper shook his head. "This is getting to be too much. We have to get them out of the area."

"We'd have to find them first," Emmett remarked. "And they may not leave just because we ask them to." I could hear the hint of eagerness behind this reasonable comment. Emmett would have welcomed the chance to force the strangers out of town.

"Three of them, seven of us," Jasper said shortly.

"Carlisle won't like it." I could say this with some confidence.

"I can't say I much care for the idea myself," he replied, "but Carlisle might very easily convince them to go. Just seeing all of us together may be enough. What nomads want to encroach on the territory claimed by such a large coven?" Jasper sometimes fell back into the language, and the innate strategies, of his former life.

The expected announcement came over the PA soon after the bell for first period had rung. Following one or two incidentals, the principal cleared his throat nervously, and went on, "I regret to have to inform the students of the death of our own police chief's daughter, Isabelle Swan."

It's _Isabella_, I thought, not Isabelle. I heard the reactions of the class, some of them shocked by the news, others already aware of the death. The word_ bear_ could be heard among the whispers.

The announcement went on to say that any students who were acquainted with Isabelle could send cards or flowers to the Anderson Funeral Home, or to Chief Swan himself. "I'm sure we all, er, grieve along with our police chief at this, er, difficult time," it concluded.

"What a shame!" Angela Weber exclaimed. "Her poor parents!"

"Did she have any brothers or sisters?" asked a girl from the next desk.

"Not that I know of."

The teacher added a few words before starting the class. We hurried home at 3:00 to talk things over with Carlisle and Esme. We were of one mind on dealing with the situation. "We should approach them with caution," Carlisle said, "but I agree with Jasper: they will probably leave voluntarily once we confront them."

"Did you hear anything about the girl's death during the day?" I asked. "Is everyone accepting the findings of bear attack?"

"Yes, so far, although it remains inconclusive because no body was actually found."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why do they assume she's dead, then? Couldn't she have run away, or gotten lost in the woods? It's unfamiliar territory to her, I assume."

"Isabella had just arrived to stay with her father - without reluctance, it appears - so the police see no reason for her to run away. More to the point, they found fairly conclusive evidence. The coroner was at the hospital, and I could hear him from an adjoining room. They found a great deal of blood on the ground; some torn clothing identified as hers; one of her shoes, also bloodstained; and…body parts." I looked at him questioningly. "Two of her fingers, on the ground a short distance from the other items. Fingerprints were intact; it was easy to ascertain they belonged to the Swan girl."

"Found where?" Jasper asked.

Carlisle sighed. "La Push. Inside the boundary line."

"And…why do _we_ assume it was vampires again?" I asked. "It could be a genuine animal attack this time, or an accident of some kind." A vampire attack, after all, was unlikely to spill much blood.

"True." Carlisle turned to Alice. "Do you see the girl's body being found? Anything further on the matter?"

Uncomfortably, Alice replied, "I don't see her at all."

Carlisle tilted his head inquisitively. "You mean, because she is no longer alive?"

"No, I mean I can't see her, period, alive or dead. Her future is a blank. So is Chief Swan's, at the moment." Her mind was full of disturbance over this failure.

"You mentioned blind spots once before. Is this something that's become worse?"

She nodded unhappily. "It seems completely random. Everything will be crystal clear, and then every so often, someone's future will just blank out!"

We pondered that a moment. "Could the nomads be blocking you?" Jasper suggested. "Possibly one of them is gifted."

"I hadn't thought of that! It might explain why I didn't see them earlier. And why I didn't see this girl, their victim - or possible victim."

"That does make sense," I agreed. "Although I wonder why you can't see Chief Swan. When was the last time you saw his future?"

"I was scanning everyone involved right after his daughter's death was announced. I saw him taking phone calls, answering questions. Terribly upset. Then some friends of his came to see him. One of them was that man Carlisle spoke to when we first arrived. They helped him make funeral arrangements and so forth. They invited him back to La Push, but a little while after they started driving there, they all disappeared."

Carlisle regarded her thoughtfully. "The nomads made their last attack inside the reservation boundary. Perhaps they were still nearby. If Jasper's theory is correct, they might be able to block your vision on a geographical basis."

Jasper nodded. "The theory being, Alice can't see anyone who approaches their current location?"

"Exactly."

After a little further discussion, we drove together to just outside the Quileute territory, parking our cars and scouting the perimeter on foot. To our disappointment, there was no fresh trace of the three strangers, either near the boundary, nor leading away from it. We gave up around 7:00, but as we were returning to our vehicles, Alice suddenly stopped short.

"Charlie Swan! He just came back!" At our puzzled looks, she explained, "I see his future again. He's on his way to the station. Hmm…I see another police officer bringing in evidence soon, something to do with his daughter."

"Is he alone?" Carlisle asked her.

"Yes, he's driving back alone. He'll enter Forks in twelve minutes."

Carlisle paused. "Would the rest of you mind going back in one car? I'd like to stop and see the Chief. Perhaps this new evidence will offer some enlightenment. Edward, come with me, please. You may be able to hear forensic information that's not discussed in our presence."

I was happy to help. Leaving the others to return home, Carlisle and I drove to the small police station in downtown Forks. "Why are we supposedly coming here?" I asked, wanting to back up his cover story as required.

"Just to offer our sympathy. I could also volunteer to help with any search and rescue efforts, if it seems appropriate."

I nodded. As we pulled into the station parking lot, I began to pick up thoughts from inside the building. Chief Swan's mind was odd, as I'd previously noticed. His thoughts seemed to waver in clarity, like a radio station intermittently picking up a distant signal, and sometimes seemed to become rather opaque. So it was now; but the overall nature of his thoughts were clear enough. He was mourning, cycling through moments of disbelief (_…no way she's really gone…_), self-recrimination (_…shouldn't have let her go walking off!_), images of his daughter tinged with tenderness and pain, and occasional flashes of wordless despair. Carlisle watched me listen. "His grief is severe," I explained. "I'm surprised he's even here."

"No doubt he finds it preferable to being alone at home. We won't stay long," Carlisle replied, opening the car door.

Chief Swan was as much of a mess as his mental state suggested: unkempt, red-eyed, and wearing a stunned expression. He was seated at his desk, but looked at us blankly when we entered. His deputy approached and greeted us. "Sorry to bother you at this time," Carlisle told him, "but I wanted to offer my condolences to the Chief, and see if there was anything I could do." He half turned toward me. "Edward expected to be in some of Isabella's classes. It was a shock to the students to hear of her accident, my own kids included."

Chief Swan nodded vaguely. "Um, thanks."

The deputy added, "I think everything's being done that can be done. There's no, uh…" He glanced uneasily at the pathetic figure at the desk behind him. "…no search party or anything. But thanks. Doctor Cullen, isn't it?"

The door opened and a uniformed officer entered, carrying a clear plastic evidence bag, improperly sealed so that it was partly open, either from carelessness, or because the case was considered solved and the police were just going through the motions. I could see it contained a sleeve from a woman's shirt, a simple cotton knit pullover such as teenaged girls often wore, torn off close to the shoulder. It was almost completely saturated with blood, now stiff and dry. I saw the officer hesitate, heard him, in his thoughts, wonder whether to present the evidence to the grieving Chief or to his more fully functional deputy. Then, thinking to check for any remaining trace of the three vampires that might be left on the evidence, I inhaled.

It was a mistake. Through the gap in the evidence bag, I picked up the aroma of the blood staining the torn sleeve. I had not expected the blood to be a concern; it was completely dry, and two days old. The scent should have been harmless; but it hit me with significant force. Venom pooled in my mouth, desire flooded my mind, and my muscles clenched in instinctive preparation to pounce on the source of that smell. The idea of that source, of the human who had had the original, still living elixir flowing in her veins, momentarily overwhelmed me. I could see Carlisle realize that something was amiss. As I forced my attention away, a sound came from my throat, and the deputy looked at me curiously. Seeing my eyes fixed intently on the bloody cloth, he came to the obvious conclusion. "Doc, your boy seems a little bothered by the, uh…" He nodded to the evidence bag, which he finally had the sense to take and stow away, out of Charlie Swan's sight.

Carlisle looked at me. "Are you all right, Edward?" he asked aloud, his mind echoing the question, but with more alarm.

I pulled myself together, quickly taking on the role of teenaged boy made queasy by the sight of blood. "Yeah, yeah. Think so." I added, quickly and inaudibly to humans, "It's fine." In fact, my mind had already cleared, and I was beginning to wonder at my reaction.

"Would you like to go and wait in the car?" he asked paternally, while thinking _Are you sure?_

I gave a barely perceptible nod, and rather sheepishly excused myself. As I walked slowly back to the Mercedes, I could hear Carlisle saying to Chief Swan, "Charlie, you shouldn't be trying to work at a time like this."

"It's okay," I heard the chief reply dully. "My buddy, Harry, is coming by in a bit. He's going to stay at my place for tonight."

"I'm glad to hear it. Again, let me know if I can be of any help. I'm so very sorry, Charlie."

Carlisle joined me a minute later, sitting in the driver's seat and turning toward me. "What happened, Edward?"

"It was the blood."

He frowned. "The blood on the evidence?" I nodded. "But it was days old, completely dry and mostly sealed in plastic!"

"I know, but even in that degraded state, the scent was so incredibly…" I shrugged, recognizing that it made no sense. "I've never had that kind of reaction before. I can't even imagine what it would be like to encounter the actual person…I mean, if even old traces on a piece of cloth had that effect…"

He understood what I meant. "Yes, indeed. I can only say, thank God you never actually encountered her!"


	3. In Memoriam

In the days that followed, the search for rogue bears remained unsuccessful, as did our own search for the three mysterious vampires. It appeared they may have simply been passing through, although we continued to keep watch. We all attended the funeral of Isabella Swan, noticing the uneasy glances and occasional hostile glares of some of the Quileutes who had attended, friends of Charlie Swan's, who evidently were more fully informed than most concerning our identity. I also took note of a woman in the front pew, middle-aged but youthful, sobbing openly against the shoulder of the man with her, and took this to be the deceased girl's mother. "What's that odd smell?" Alice asked quietly during the funeral service.

I had noticed it myself, but had no idea. It was completely unfamiliar, and quite repellant. It seemed to be coming from the area where Chief Swan's friend, Billy Black, and his teenaged son were seated, but it wasn't a human scent, and it didn't resemble anything else, natural or synthetic, that we were familiar with. We looked at each other: more mysteries.

We sat quietly while Bella's stepfather, an out-of-town aunt, a family friend who had travelled in from Arizona with Renee Dwyer, and Billy Black from LaPush, each stood to deliver an informal eulogy. They stressed the young woman's kindness, her warm heart and willingness to help, her quick mind and remarkable perceptiveness. This might have been no more than politeness, but I could discern that each of them were speaking the truth. Besides, the illustrations from the girl's real life, in the form of touching or amusing anecdotes, made clear that her virtues were not invented. The fact that they also referred to less positive traits, like her debilitating clumsiness and tremendous dislike of calling attention to herself, made their description believable. Billy Black spoke mostly of the time he'd spent with Isabella when she was a child, and had come to stay with her father every summer; while her stepfather, Phil Dwyer, had more to say about her in recent years. Neither of her parents were fit to make a statement. Her mother, after briefly thanking the minister, left directly from the funeral and was not seen again. She did not speak to Charlie, and I picked up some hints, among his hard-to-read thoughts, that he feared she blamed him for their daughter's death.

Only Carlisle, Esme, Alice, and I went on to the Swan house with the crowd of mourners following the funeral, the others claiming unfinished homework. The fact was, Jasper had had enough of crowds of humans in closed rooms for one day, Rosalie was bored with the idea of a small-town wake, and Emmett chose to go where Rose was. Esme brought a casserole (made by Alice, who was curious about the experience of cooking) to add to the many gifts of food brought by friends, colleagues, and members of the community. Chief Swan's mind had calmed slightly, leaving him far from peaceful, but now merely intensely grieving, as opposed to being consumed with pain. He was not, however, in any condition to deal with practical matters; the funeral, and the reception at the Swan house, were managed by friends, led by a female cousin of his who had come into town for the purpose. In her mind, I saw her arriving, getting one look at Charlie's face, and taking over practical matters. We once more said a few words to Charlie, mingled quietly with the other mourners, and carefully avoided approaching the Quileute guests. I paused at a small tribute someone had placed on a side table in the living room, a bowl of flowers in front of a carefully chosen array of photographs, showing Isabella Swan from childhood through the current year. I studied the more recent pictures with some interest, knowing that this was the girl who had carried the magical blood I'd recently encountered. She was slender, with long, dark brown hair and large brown eyes, and a delicate face with a pale complexion. I found myself staring. There was a very un-adolescent gentleness and maturity to her countenance, shyness and discomfort at being photographed clear in most of the images, as described by her friends and family at the funeral, but also other qualities that her expression seemed to suggest. She rarely smiled in the photographs, yet did not seem at all sad. I examined the pictures for some time, until another guest moved closer to look, and I made way.

The house, I could not help but notice, still retained a trace of the dead girl's scent, not intoxicating as her blood had been, but still intriguing. Hesitating, and a little ashamed of myself, I climbed the stairs, ostensibly to use the restroom, but actually in order to follow the scent to where is was more concentrated. Out of sight of the visitors downstairs, I tracked it to a room at the end of a corridor, quietly opened the door, and looked inside. It was obviously her room, decorated as any teenaged girl's room might be. I breathed in, enjoying the sweetness and attraction of the fragrance without the maddening quality of the blood associated with it. I pictured Isabella, the girl in the photographs, there at her desk, or lying in the bed with the purple comforter, or seated in the rocking chair, reading the book I saw lying on the floor beside it, a bookmark in place about halfway through the pages. Curious, I picked up the book: Mansfield Park. A Jane Austen fan, then. I scanned the bookshelves on the opposite wall, finding more classic literature than would be expected in the collection of a girl of seventeen: Thomas Hardy, Edith Wharton, Charles Dickens, and more Austen; but also some of the better modern authors: I saw George Orwell, Tolkein, Vonnegut, and Faulkner. Love in the Time of Cholera caught my eye, hinting at a more romantic nature than I'd expected. Beside it was The Handmaid's Tale - much darker! I took the Atwood novel down, finding the handwritten note on the flyleaf in a quirky, angular script: '_Happy Sweet Sixteen, Bella! All my love, Mom_.' An odd present from a mother to an underaged daughter, I thought, and turned back to the shelf. A couple of history books, and a very eclectic selection of non-fiction volumes. I raised an eyebrow over Noam Chomsky placed beside a book of Greek mythology and…Chicken Soup for the Teenaged Soul? On impulse, I opened the last one, and found yet another dedication: _Welcome to Forks Bells from Dad_. Aha! A gift, chosen by a non-custodial father who knew his daughter loved books but was uncertain of her tastes, probably recommended by some bookstore clerk as 'perfect for girls her age.' I was foolishly pleased that I had picked out the volume Isabella hadn't chosen for herself. I realized that Bella must have carried most of these books with her when she transferred to her father's house, using up valuable suitcase space. An avid reader, obviously. I felt a profile of her character falling together, from the funeral remarks, the mental images in various minds, and even from her chosen reading. More romantic than cynical, I estimated, but not flighty or frivolous; generous and loving; mature beyond her years.

I turned to her small stack of CDs, and found even more variety in her choices of music. Again, not typical of a high school girl. She owned a couple of my favourites, in fact. I found a plastic box of audio cassettes behind the stereo system - an old device with, sure enough, a tape deck in it, probably furnished by her father - and began to look through them as well. They were homemade mix tapes, I realized, perhaps recorded from borrowed CDs or from the radio. I was mildly offended: a music lover with such diverse tastes should have decent equipment, I thought. I scanned through the hand-written labels, which listed the contents of each tape, and found them to be mixed indeed! Everything from medieval vocal music to modern jazz, classical to rock, Motown to Mbube. Stifling a base impulse to pocket a few of the more interesting, I settled for quickly reading the listings on all twelve tapes, reserving the option of finding the tracks later. I felt a wave of regret that I would never know their owner, then realized how ridiculous that thought was. If I'd met her alive, I would have either attacked and drained her the moment I smelled that amazing blood; or else would have had to flee from and avoid her completely. And in any case, I could not have had any kind of real friendship with a human. Nor would I have wanted to burden an apparently kind, clever, interesting human girl with the friendship of a monster. I still sighed a little, feeling an irrational sense of loss at the passing away of this young stranger.

Realizing that my snooping was inappropriate, and that my level of interest was odd, I scanned the room, committing the details to memory, and reluctantly left. I entered the bathroom, noted the presence of distinctly feminine toiletries but no makeup of any kind, then, as I heard someone start to climb the stairs, I flushed (maintaining a cover story means attention to detail), ran the water momentarily, and emerged, returning to the first floor. Carlisle looked my way questioningly, and I approached him. "I went into the daughter's room on the second floor," I said quietly. " I thought I might pick up on something helpful." It was a plausible enough excuse, and Carlisle accepted it without question. I could not have provided the real reason for my curiosity, as I wasn't sure of it myself.

"Anything significant?" he asked. I shook my head. We took our leave a few minutes later; my eyes were unaccountably drawn back to the little house as we drove away.

For whatever reason, the Forks death count ceased to climb after this, and the threat of marauding bears was gradually forgotten. The three nomads seemed to have moved on, and we considered the dangerous period over and done. We returned to our daily routine, with only one exception in my case: my choices of reading and music. I began re-reading Mansfield Park, and found myself pleasantly reminded of how much I appreciated the often-despised main character, the meek, self-effacing Fanny Price. From there, I selected the few books from the Swan girl's bedroom that I had never read, before moving on to re-read those already familiar to me; and systematically found and played the music I had found there. Why use those bedroom bookshelves as my guide? Again, I wasn't sure. It seemed, at least, as good a basis as random selection. I sometimes told myself it was a form of character study, a way of understanding human beings better by examining one human in particular, sharing her selections. In fact, I had studied enough psychology to recognize the symptoms of an obsession; but it seemed a mild and harmless obsession, merely a recreational fascination, like those who tracked celebrities or retraced the steps of celebrated explorers. It goes without saying, however, that I did not share my little project with my family.

There was one more death more or less within our circle, but not a suspicious one as far as we could tell. Harry, the man who had been our first contact with the Quileutes on returning to Forks, had died suddenly. It was ruled a natural death, a heart attack. Carlisle's first thought was that it would be a burden for Charlie Swan, losing a close friend so soon after the death of his daughter. "I would send a message of sympathy," he said, "but I'm sure it would not be welcome."

I agreed. "I don't suppose we need to establish a new contact at La Push?"

"Likely not. They are aware of our presence, and that is all that's required. I'm not sure who we would approach, in any case."

I saw Alice's thoughts idly explore local events, as she often did, scanning for potential trouble. Suddenly she gasped, her eyes wide.

Jasper turned to her. "Alice?"

"It's happening again!"

"What?" he asked in alarm.

"The blind spots," I explained, seeing it in Alice's thoughts.

"Yes," Alice agreed. "I saw Charlie Swan head for the funeral in La Push, then his future just disappeared."

Everyone gathered closer. "If our theory is correct," Carlisle said, "the coven that came through earlier may have returned."

"Not much we can do about it, if they're inside the reservation."

"I'm sure they won't stay inside; why would they? They'll pass over the boundary at some point, and we may be able to intercept them."

We once more travelled to the reserve, quickly running along the boundary line. "Nothing!" Emmett exclaimed. There was, in fact, no trace of the three vampires who'd been in the area before.

"We may have to revise our hypothesis," Carlisle said.

Alice looked worried. "Could I be losing my vision?"

"Highly unlikely. I could ask Eleazar about it, but I have never heard of a vampire losing his gift. Our particular talents tend to grow stronger and expand, not lessen."

"Then what's causing it?"

We were distracted from the discussion by a startling scent coming from west of us, some distance inside the boundary. "What _is_ that?" Rosalie asked, wrinkling her nose.

"It's the same scent we encountered at the Swan funeral," Carlisle said. "We couldn't account for it then, either."

We saw the source of it a moment later: a man, young but unusually tall and muscular, was striding across the ground directly toward us, glaring in our direction. He seemed to be human, but did not carry a human smell; the normal scent, and the scent of blood, was virtually drowned in the unfamiliar, vaguely threatening reek. His level of confidence in approaching us was also unusual; his thoughts were largely non-verbal hostility. Jasper quietly moved in front of Alice, and we waited tensely for him to reach the border.

The stranger stopped short a few feet from us, still glaring. "What are you doing here?" he asked without preamble.

Carlisle began amiably, "My name is…"

"I know who you are," he interrupted. "And _what_ you are. Why are you lurking around the rez?"

"We had reason to believe that there were others who had wandered onto your land. Three others of our kind." I saw the man's mind register this, but oddly, to hesitate over the word _three_. "We came to look for some trace of them."

"Why would you care if there were?"

"Because…may I ask your name?"

The young man seemed prepared to object, but unable to find a legitimate reason, he replied, "Sam."

"Pleased to meet you. As I was saying, it is not to our advantage, either, to have those who hunt humans in the area. They have already killed local residents - unless you subscribe to the animal attack theory?"

Sam snorted. "No, we know it wasn't bears that did it. But it's not a problem any more."

Carlisle hesitated before replying, as several more young men were seen hurrying to join Sam - also tall and strong, and also with angry expressions, as well as the same powerful, unpleasant, not-quite-human scent. "Why do you say that?" Carlisle began to ask, but turned to me as I gasped.

I saw in their minds the transformation, first of one of the Quileute men, then others, one by one. They changed form, and in doing so, they moved into something…something _other_, a different dimension, in which they seemed to occupy time and space in a completely unfamiliar way. Their minds linked, so that they could communicate instantly with one another; no, not communicate - it was more as if they had a shared mind, in addition to their own, individual mind. They were in the form of wolves, a form that held significance for them, but they were more than wolves, or werewolves; in their thoughts they were called _spirit warriors_. I was almost as fascinated by the phenomenon as I was shocked by the information I was receiving. I saw in several of their minds the memory of vampires; their fury at seeing a man killed by monsters; a flash of red hair from one, the fastest one; an attack, a vicious fight, and a sense of triumph. Injuries to the wolves, severe ones, but they healed themselves quickly, almost as if by magic.

The family were staring at me as I took a second or two to absorb it all. "The wolves!" I exclaimed. "They're back!"

"Wolves?" Jasper asked.

"Before your and Alice's time," Carlisle explained. "I'll explain more fully later, but some of the Quileutes, at one time, would take on werewolf form - of a sort - and gain the power to fight and defeat vampires."

"How do you know about that?" Sam demanded.

Carlisle turned back to the Quileutes. "We learned of your ability when we encountered your people years ago, when Ephraim Black was your leader." The men looked at each other, uneasy. They knew our history, but the face-to-face reality of talking to ageless beings was still unsettling. "Is it true, then, that your transformation into…spirit warriors still takes place, to this day?"

Sam's glare seemed to scale up a notch. "No, not all that time. It just began again recently."

"Excuse me for asking, but I find it fascinating. Is there a particular reason for it returning after so many years?"

They all stared at us. "You really don't know?" Sam asked. Carlisle shook his head. "_You_ came back!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"We transform for one reason: to fight vampires. The wolves come around when the Cold Ones do."

Carlisle ignored the hostility in his voice, intent on this intriguing new information. "You mean, you begin to transform in response to the presence of our kind?"

"Yes! You guys came back, and then those other ones, the ones who…" He grimaced. I caught a glimpse in his mind of the nomads, attacking a local man, drinking from him, and then a confused image of the fight with the wolves. "…they kept wandering through the area. There's five of us now, and maybe more to come."

"Amazing!" Carlisle murmured.

"You may think so," another of the men snapped, "but it kind of screwed up our lives."

"Of course," Carlisle said apologetically. "I'm sorry. But we had no idea our presence could have that effect."

His words were accepted by all five, grudgingly but without additional anger. "Yeah, I get that now," Sam said.

"But what of the others, the group that had been travelling through here? You were able to dispatch them?"

"On the second try, we did. Well, not quite all. Two of 'em," Sam said, his pleasure in the victory clearly shared by the rest of the group.

"That is impressive," Jasper remarked.

The men seemed surprised to receive praise from one vampire for killing others, but accepted the tribute. "It went pretty well. There were all five of us, and we were able to take them by surprise; plus they didn't really know how to fight us, since we were a new thing to them, right?"

"Of course," Carlisle agreed.

"We took down the redhead first, because we'd seen that she was fastest, and we just had a feeling she'd be kind of tricky. Second one was a little easier. And then, we were helped out by the fact that they started fighting between themselves." We looked at each other, surprised at the odd behaviour described.

"Only two were destroyed, you said?" Carlisle asked Sam. "What about…?"

"Ran off. But probably won't be back."

"I'm sure you're right. Forgive me, but you _do_ know how to permanently kill a vampire?"

"Oh, yeah. Dismember and then burn the parts - _all_ the parts. Right?" A couple of the men grinned at us in a mildly threatening way, relishing the idea of getting us into a bonfire.

"Exactly," Carlisle agreed calmly. "Obviously you have kept a narrative history of past encounters. Well, you clearly have matters in hand. I thank you for the information, and again, I regret that our coming here had such an impact on your lives."

Sam merely nodded curtly, and we took our leave. I could hear the rather mixed reactions of the five to the conversation as they moved away.

Alice turned to Carlisle as we walked. "Excuse me, but _werewolves_? How did _that_ never happen to come up during Story Hour?"


	4. Spring

Peace reigned in Forks for months following our discovery of the werewolves' return. School gossip moved past the three untimely deaths at last. The bereaved families recovered from their loss, as humans will. Even Charlie Swan, overcome by heartbreaking grief, gradually began to heal. He spent a great deal of time with his closest friends, both of them residents of La Push: Billy Black, and Sue Clearwater, the widow of the deceased Harry Clearwater, who now lived alone with her son and daughter. I could hear in Charlie's mind that he found these visits comforting; these were people who had known Bella, at least when she was younger, and whom he could talk to freely. Billy, he felt, was just a good person to have around when you felt bad. As for Sue, she had recently experienced a loss as well, which made it only natural to support each other; and Charlie took it on himself to fill in and do some of the things Harry would have taken care of, minor repairs and car maintenance and such. I took these thoughts at face value, but Jasper read it differently. "Billy Black is a friend, period," he agreed, "but Sue Clearwater is another matter. He's interested in her."

"She's a very recent widow," I objected, "and Chief Swan isn't really himself again."

"No, it's not really a conscious thing. If it were, you'd have heard it yourself. After some time's passed, though, they'll probably get together as a couple."

I was skeptical. Jasper often gave his ability to read emotions more significance than my mind-reading. "Anybody want to lay bets on it?" Emmett asked.

One mystery was cleared up fairly soon. Alice was able to determine the source of her blind spots: the werewolves themselves. We began to suspect it after she realized she was unable to see the future of many residents of La Push, even after it became clear that the nomads were long gone. She experimented with following the future of anyone headed toward the reservation - most often Chief Swan. His future would disappear while he was on his way there, then return when he left for home. We finally managed to narrow it down, and came to understand that, for whatever reason, Alice could not see the future of the wolves, nor of anyone immediately connected with them. We thought Alice would find this annoying, but she was relieved that her gift had not abandoned her, but was merely blocked by a single group of anomalous beings. "It won't even matter, once we leave Forks again," she said cheerfully. "I'll just have to work around it for now."

Spring came to Forks, bringing slightly warmer weather but more rain and even more consistently overcast skies, uncongenial to the humans but ideal for our purposes. As the wildflowers began to bloom, I found myself spending more time outdoors. I could not enjoy the changing seasons as humans did, who felt the climate grow more friendly to their temperature-sensitive bodies, but I retained a love of natural beauty for its own sake, and it often lifted my spirits to spend time outdoors, not hunting, but simply wandering through the wilderness. At home, I continued with my personal project of working through the small personal library of Isabella Swan. I was reading my way through the books I'd found in her room, taking my time with it; and when I listened to music, it was usually selections from her bedroom playlist. Eventually it found its way into my own music: when I played the piano, I would sometimes attempt my own arrangement of something I'd heard on CD. I even began composing again, just a little, doing variations on Bella's music collection, or combining pieces from different genres in a unique fusion. This gave Esme a great deal of pleasure; I heard her thoughts, which rejoiced that I was not only spending more time at my piano, but had returned to composing, which I'd abandoned years before.

On a clear, sunny Saturday, I took some time away from the family and climbed to my meadow. The clearing was blooming with wildflowers, the sun made patterns on the mountainside, and I revelled in its peaceful beauty, slowly walking the circumference of the area, taking in every detail. I began to hum a tune, a simple folk song that had been on one of Isabella Swan's tapes, then began singing the words. I realized how long it had been since I'd sung for pleasure. I would join in when the family sang together, whether accompanying the radio in the car or just for fun when gathered at home, but not by myself, not for ages. I sang the song again, with more gusto and feeling. I recalled the few classical vocal recordings on the mix tapes; _she_ had no serious opera recordings, but apparently was able to enjoy some lighter material. The wistful lyrics of _Gira Con Me_ ran through my head. I paused to listen, both for sounds and for thoughts, until certain I was completely alone; no one, human or otherwise, was within hearing distance. Still a little self-conscious, I began to sing, effortlessly imitating the voice on the recording. Then, finding that the song spoke to me, I sang it once again, this time in my own voice, loudly and freely, allowing myself to emote without inhibition, both vocally and through gesture. I automatically translated the lyrics to myself as I sang: _I follow your heart, and I follow the moon…it is you who wander with me tonight…_ Letting myself give forth this way, the sweet music and the sentimental words, seemed to satisfy something inside me; it was unexpectedly cathartic. I concluded and stood still a moment, prey to a strange mixture of feelings, desperately sad, and as lonely as I'd felt in a hundred years; and at the same time filled with a kind of exultation.

I returned home to find some of the family discussing the upcoming graduation, and the time afterward. The allegedly older students would graduate this year, while Alice and I had another year at Forks High School yet to go. That would give the graduates a year's worth of cover story to fill in.

"Out picking daisies in your meadow again?" Rose asked as I came in, in a tone that was not quite sneering, more like tolerantly amused.

"What's the plan?" I asked, overlooking Rosalie's question. It seemed even easier than usual to ignore her; my musical indulgence, and the strange emotional release that came with it, had left me in a distinctly calm frame of mind, like the quiet atmosphere following a thunderstorm. I did briefly wonder, not for the first time, what on earth Carlisle had been thinking, in supposing Rosalie might have been a suitable mate for me. I'd learned to get along with her - most of the time - but we were as mismatched as two people can possibly be.

"We're still working on it," Emmett told me. "Jasper's staying put to be with Alice, and we were talking about some story about his taking a year off, or doing online courses at home. But Rose and I, we might go to college in Seattle, so we'd be close to home; or else maybe use the extra year to take a trip together." They had, of course, already been accepted at the University of Washington, along with other institutions, just to leave their options open.

"Still not sure how much longer we can hang on here?" I asked.

Alice replied, "I've looked ahead as far as I can, and I don't see any serious problem about our age for the next two years. But I doubt we can push it _too_ far beyond that. There are already a lot of comments about Carlisle looking too young to be a surgeon; it can only get worse."

These were concerns we'd gone over many times before, but I felt a reluctance to consider leaving the area. "Your expertise keeps us plausibly aging, though."

She smiled at that. "I can only do so much."

"I know we'd all like to stay on as long as possible," Esme said, "given the weather here, but of course security comes first."

"If anyone's attending university nearby, it would be nice if they could graduate before we move on," I suggested.

Carlisle replied, "It would, of course. We can make that a tentative goal, if you like."

I nodded calmly, but was inordinately pleased that we might extend our residence here. The peaceful mood I'd been coasting on since my outing remained intact. Jasper gave me an odd look, but revealed nothing in his thoughts.

The year ground slowly onward. Prom posters appeared on the walls of the school corridors, leading to a great deal of intense speculation, and many of the girls breathlessly wondering if the right boy would invite her - the boys, meanwhile, working up the courage to invite their preferred girl. "It makes their thoughts even less enjoyable than usual," I grumbled to the others one day at lunch.

"It makes their emotional climate a little uncomfortable as well," Jasper added.

"And there's the spring dance, too," Alice pointed out. "They made that girls' choice, so more drama in the other direction."

"Forks High School's grand gesture toward sexual equality," Rosalie said with a smirk.

"I wish I could just tell them all who's going to ask, and who's going to say yes," Alice sighed.

I laughed. "That might start an entirely new round of drama. Bigger than the last." I picked up thoughts from across the cafeteria. "Oh! Here's something novel! Jasper, you've become someone's secret crush, and are going to be invited to the spring dance by a charming and, I assume, very brave young lady."

"Wow, first time anyone went for Jazzy," Alice giggled. "They're usually terrified of him."

"With good reason," I agreed, and Jasper rolled his eyes.

"Who is it?"

"Amanda Harper."

"Amanda. Another of the most common baby names of the era," Jasper pointed out. "Surprised none of us ever got it."

"I coulda been an Amanda," Alice quipped, in fairly good Anthony Quinn voice.

I laughed even though it was a terrible joke. Jasper cocked an eye at me. "You're in a good mood."

"For once," Rosalie muttered.

"Pot, meet kettle," I told her, still smiling. To Jasper I said, "I'm just happy about your growing popularity with the young ladies of Forks High. Spring dance is a magical time." The others were chuckling. "Will you give her a corsage, or just a ten minute head start?"

Jasper finally laughed. "Don't even joke about that!"

Alice glanced around the cafeteria. "Where _is_ the girl with such excellent taste in men?"

"Last table on the right, by the window. The one in green, with the glasses."

"Oh, the little brainiac! The kids make fun of her for being smart."

"It _is_ a disgraceful thing, being smart."

"She's very bright. Explains why she likes Jasper," Alice declared.

"I don't know," Jasper said thoughtfully. "Her feelings are very bitter."

I nodded; little Amanda's thoughts fit in with that assessment. "The young gentlemen have been rather harsh to her in the past. She's thinking that you seem kind and civilized, and at the very worst, will turn her down politely rather than insult her."

"Aww!" Alice exclaimed.

"Very perceptive of her," I noted, "especially since she ought to find him frightening."

"You could accept her invitation," Rosalie suggested impishly, "if you want to be _really_ nice."

"That wouldn't be nice; it would only give her false hope."

"These mixed marriages never work out," Alice agreed.

"Mixed, as in two different species?" Rosalie laughed. "Yeah, that _would _be a problem."

I agreed, glancing at the hopeful Amanda, in the room with us but separated by an entire universe. More than a problem, love between a vampire and a human would be an abomination. At least Tanya and her sisters only loved 'em and left 'em, rather than ever choose to keep one of their men as a permanent mate. Who could bring himself to impose our way of life on a living, breathing human being? Especially on one that he loved. I turned away, back to my own universe, and changed the subject.

Final exams came and went. We agreed, for the sake of realism, to get at least one question wrong on each test, and two wrong on an exam in one, pre-selected subject. Emmett found it amusing to include not merely wrong answers, but ridiculous ones, such as naming Emily Dickinson as the author of Ulysses. Carlisle warned him to avoid anything too obviously deliberate, but his sense of humour ended up earning him an overall grade average of A, rather than the A+ usual for all of us. I laughingly berated him as the family dunce for weeks.

Rose, Emmett, and Jasper all graduated at the end of the year. We all attended the ceremony, cheered as each of them crossed the stage of the school auditorium to receive their diplomas, pretended to take pictures. We did not, however, join in any student celebrations; it was just part of maintaining our cover story. Not that any of us were keen on mingling with the crude, insecure, maladroit teenagers in our class for two hours of mediocre music, bad dancing, and appetizing smells, not to mention, in some cases, having to share their thoughts or emotions for longer than was absolutely necessary. Alice insisted on giving a graduation party, just for the family, but that was a different sort of event altogether. For one thing, the Denalis were invited.

It was an enjoyable gathering, all in all. Everyone had ample access to others with similar tastes and interests, so conversation was ongoing, with plenty of argument as well as laughter. Once we had caught up on news from both clans, Alice started the music. With eleven of us present, some of the older guests were able to enjoy a proper dance, according to their centuries-old lights, and we obligingly formed groups to perform the dances from each individual's earlier years, from the very ancient, winding and swaying dances that were once used to worship Apollo, to the medieval Estampie, all the way to the square dances Emmett had vague recollections of, to Esme's beloved waltz, and finally moving on to Alice's favourite, 1950s jitterbug, at which she excelled.

Tanya made a point of dancing with me, or alongside me, at every opportunity. I was happy to oblige. It was an odd thing: maybe it was the time apart, or maybe it was the unusual moods I'd gone through recently, but my feelings for Tanya, vague and uncertain at the best of times, had resolved themselves. It wasn't that I liked her less, or more for that matter. It was that the slight, nervous feeling that had been associated with her earlier flirtation - the feeling, as I'd described it to myself, of my lock being not-quite-successfully jimmied - was entirely gone. I felt utterly, blithely secure from Tanya's efforts. It made her company more enjoyable. In fact, I spent a great deal of time with her, laughing at her jokes and making her laugh in return, dancing, of course, reminiscing, and enjoying whatever games and competitions the families came up with. It was when we were all totting up how many graduations each of us had experienced over the years, and who had the greatest number of bogus diplomas over all, that I picked up on something in Tanya's mind. My behaviour, I was alarmed to realize, had made her hopeful. She was wondering whether I was reconsidering my refusal. I was genuinely sorry; I had not intended to give her the wrong impression.

As the evening wore on, I became aware that I was rousing speculation in others as well. My family had noticed how genial and comfortable I had become with Tanya's company, and drawing the wrong conclusion, were watching us with various emotions: hopefulness and kind concern from Carlisle and Esme; amusement from Rosalie; slightly ribald speculation from Emmett. They recalled Alice's fuzzy, long-ago prediction that I would be meeting my mate before long, and wondered if Tanya was the one after all. Alice…was thinking of other things, rather deliberately it seemed to me. Only Jasper, who could read my emotions, was under no illusion that my feelings for Tanya had deepened; that, in fact, I had simply settled into a truly brotherly relationship with her. I glanced at him and, reading my concern, he thought _Don't worry. I'll make it clear to them._ I glanced at Tanya, and he smiled slightly and added, _You're not breaking her heart, if that's what is distressing you. It's a casual thing for her. I'll make it clear to her, too, if you want. _I gave him a quick nod and smile of thanks - and went on dancing.

The Denali stayed on with us for a few days. Eleazar assessed Alice's gift, confirmed what we had already concluded: that her foresight was rock-solid. We talked over the working theory that the werewolves were responsible for blocking it. Fascinated, Eleazar requested a trip to the boundary line, and Tanya and Kate asked to go along; but we were concerned that the treaty may not cover anyone outside our family, even fellow vegetarians. Accordingly, Carlisle and I approached the boundary line one evening. As expected, our presence was detected, and we were shortly approached by Sam, another burly young man, and to our surprise, a woman, perhaps twenty, her beauty marred by a furious scowl. She hated and resented vampires more, even, than the others.

Sam stepped forward and addressed us with brusqueness that did not quite become discourtesy. "What's up?"

Carlisle spoke to him. "Good evening, Sam. We wanted to ask your position on other visitors of our kind to the area."

They all looked surprised. "You know how we feel about that. You guys are exempted because you don't kill humans - for now, anyway. That doesn't apply to anyone else, even if they're friends of yours."

"I understand, but this is another family who do not hunt humans, and have not for many years."

Sam tilted his head curiously. "There are others?"

"Not many, but yes. There are five of them, and they were hoping to stay with us for a few days - provided you will grant them safe passage."

"You say they never hurt humans?"

"Yes. No more than we do. They are quite safe."

Sam looked as if he would dispute that, but he merely said, "Okay, I guess we can put up with that for a few days. They're not thinking of moving here, are they?"

"No."

"Fine. But how would we know them from the regular vampires?"

"By their eye colour, mainly. A vampire who takes human blood has red eyes. Our friends' eyes are like ours."

"Light brown, like that?" Sam looked from Carlisle to me. "All right. Make sure they know not to go on Quileute land."

"We will. Thank you, Sam."

He began to turn away, then paused. "Your friends - they arrived in the area a couple days ago, didn't they?"

Carlisle nodded. "I must admit, they did. We thought it would be acceptable if they kept to our house. I apologize for not giving notice."

Sam merely grimaced, and the young woman's scowl intensified, and they ran off. "How did they know Tanya's family were already here?" I asked.

"I'm not sure. Perhaps they picked up the scent at some point."

We returned home, bringing the curious back to the boundary. Eleazar, using his unique skill, observed as Alice scanned the futures of various people in the community, then attempted to see people we knew were on the reserve. "Yes, I see it," he murmured. "It is not a gift of theirs, however; not in the usual sense. They are not deliberately blocking your vision. It is merely that they are not there to see."

"Beg pardon?" Alice replied.

"Well, they are _there_, of course; physically present. But their existence as werewolves seem to place them outside your reach, in another dimension. For the purposes of your vision, they are not there. You say they consider their changed selves to be 'spirit warriors'?"

"That's the way they have traditionally described it, yes," Carlisle replied. We began our run back to where we'd parked our cars, arriving there in minutes.

"It may be more accurate than one would think. Alice does not see them, for the same reason she does not see ghosts."

"Ghosts don't exist," Alice replied, frowning.

Eleazar smiled at her. "For the sake of the discussion, if ghosts existed, they would not exist in our world, in our dimensions. These wolves seem to share that quality. That is my best assessment, at least."

"So fascinating!" Carlisle exclaimed. He was about to continue, but as we reached the clearing that held our vehicles, Kate suddenly uttered a soft "Oh!"

Tanya whirled to look at her. "Kate? What's…?" She followed the direction where Kate was pointing, off into the woods. We all looked. In the far distance a figure was standing, perfectly still, against the treeline, apparently watching us. The wind blew a gust toward us, and we picked up the scent. It was not human.


	5. Summer

There was a hurriedly whispered consultation, made slightly more complicated by the presence of two separate coven leaders trying to give one another the proper deference.

"Who is it?" asked Kate. At that distance, even we could not make out details.

"Surely," Tanya replied, "it must be the one surviving from the three who were here. You said, Carlisle, that two of them were destroyed by the werewolves, and one escaped, yes?"

"That's right."

"This is not one of the three who were here earlier," I pointed out. "We'd recognize the scent."

"No," Carlisle agreed. "It is a complete stranger."

"Another one? What _is_ it about this place?" Kate muttered. "It's like a convention."

"Shall we chase him out of town?" Tanya asked.

Carlisle hesitated. "If you don't mind, I would rather try to reason with him first. After his encounter with the wolves, I'm sure he would be more than ready to avoid the area."

Tanya shrugged. "I have no objection, but I will defend myself if he attacks."

"Understood." Carlisle raised a hand and called softly, "Hello!"

The figure stood still for several seconds, then hesitantly raised a hand as well, and gave a little wave.

"We mean no harm. May we speak with you?"

Again, a long pause, while the figure seemed to look from one of us to another. Then I heard a quiet, "Yes." We looked at each other in surprise. It was a female voice. I heard Carlisle mentally recall the exact wording of our conversation with the Quileutes, and we both realized we may have overlooked the possibility of a fourth vampire.

Carlisle called out, "I'm going to come closer, if that is all right." The figure seemed to crouch slightly, as though preparing to flee - or to attack. "Please, stay there. I will come by myself if you prefer."

The stranger paused, nodded, and began to cautiously move in our direction. "Stay behind for now, please," Carlisle told us. "I don't want to frighten her any further. She seems terrified of us. Come forward once she is more at ease." We agreed, and Carlisle walked toward the distant figure. He stopped about twenty feet from her, and we could hear him address her soothingly. "My name is Carlisle. With me are some of my family."

"Family?" the stranger repeated in surprise.

"Yes. I would be happy to introduce them to you - when you feel so inclined. For now, I wanted to warn you that the nearby area, from just north-west of here, along the ocean north to the Quillayute River, and projecting a little over a thousand meters away from the shoreline, is protected. It may be dangerous to go there."

The stranger looked in the direction of La Push. "I know. There are…something like wolves."

"You know about them?"

"I saw them. I…fought them off." She looked down at her hands, clearly disturbed by the memory.

"I see. We have not seen you before. Have you been in this area long?"

This simple question seemed difficult for her. She shrugged, shook her head, and then said, "Yes. Well, it _seems_ long. I think it must be since January. How long would that be?"

"Six months," Carlisle answered, showing no surprise at her confusion.

At Tanya's silent suggestion, the four of us began to slowly move forward. The stranger noticed this and tensed, but did not attempt to flee. We could now see her clothing, which was ragged even beyond the typically low standards of nomads. Her long hair was a mass of tangles, and she looked as if she'd rolled in mud at some point. We also noticed something else, something surprising, which Carlisle went on to mention at this point.

"If you would not mind another question…I could not help noticing, you do not hunt humans."

The stranger stared at him incredulously. "Hunt humans," she repeated, as if the words made no sense.

"Yes. I could tell from the colour of your eyes." She stared at him still, not seeming to understand. "It is rather unusual among our kind. I know of only two families who practice this kind of restraint. May I ask, were you taught by your creator to leave humans unharmed?"

She frowned in confusion. "I'm sorry but…I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about."

Carlisle studied her a moment. "Have you been alone the entire six months?"

She seemed to have a great deal to say, but unable to find the words; emotions crossed her face: grief, confusion, fear. At last, she simply nodded.

"This must be incredibly confusing for you." She nodded again, looking at him gratefully.

Carlisle went on in his most reassuring voice, "I would be happy to continue to speak with you here, if you prefer. But if you are willing, I would like to invite you to my home. The rest of my family are there. They would be happy to meet you, and…I think we may be of help to you." As she hesitated, biting her lower lip nervously, he added, "At the very least, it would be a respite from your long period of solitude. And you may, of course, leave again whenever you wish."

I could see that she was afraid, but she was also drawn by the offer of help - and, of course, Carlisle at his most comforting was bound to be attractive to the lost and lonely. She agreed, and followed him back to us; we stood still, trying to look benign. "This is Tanya," Carlisle said, pointing to each of us, "Edward, Kate, and Eleazar." We greeted her in a friendly but unassertive manner. "May I ask your name?"

She looked at him in mild surprise, as if, understandably, nobody had asked her name for at least six months. "It's Bella."

I froze where I stood, as everything fell into place. "Bella? You're Isabella Swan?" I had not, at first, recognized her from the photographs I'd seen at her funeral; the pictures had not captured her appearance perfectly, and naturally, she'd changed a fair amount; but now I could see the resemblance. The photos of Isabella Swan were like a first draft of a work of art, while the vampire standing in front of me was the completed portrait. She was beautiful; but more shockingly, she was _real_. My minor obsession, the object of my strange, random fanboy fixation, was most unexpectedly standing in front of me. Since January, I had begun to think of her not only as deceased, but almost as mythological. My feelings were, to say the least, mixed.

"Yes, that's me."

I took in the eyes, which were becoming golden brown, but with a tinge of red still running through and around the iris, the vestiges of the newborn stage, which was, apparently, drawing to a close. I had never heard of a vampire successfully choosing not to kill, without guidance, through the newborn phase, apart from Carlisle. My foolish obsession began to evolve into more legitimate admiration.

We led the stranger…no, Isabella Swan…no, she preferred Bella…to the place we'd parked our cars, where she hesitated a long moment before agreeing to get inside. I was a little disappointed that she chose to ride with Carlisle rather than in my Volvo, and was therefore unable to hear any conversation they had on the road. Instead, I tuned in to their thoughts as I drove, and finally made a startling discovery. I could hear Carlisle's thoughts easily from the car directly behind mine; I could also hear the thoughts of the three Denali. Bella's thoughts, however, were a complete blank to me! I'd been so focused on her and Carlisle's audible conversation, I had not realized that I was unable to read her. Apparently Alice was not the only one to have her talents unexpectedly blocked. It had never happened to me before - so I thought; but I recalled how Charlie Swan's mind had been partly opaque, revealing only hints of what he was thinking. This was his natural daughter; perhaps she had inherited the quality, and it had become more pronounced after her transformation. Special gifts from the human life often became enhanced. I concentrated on the other car, assuring myself that no thoughts could be heard from Bella, not a trace.

We arrived at the house to find Emmett and Jasper standing on either side of the front door, looking like palace guards, and Alice watching eagerly through the window, grinning from ear to ear, and her mind, for some reason, reciting the roster and statistics from the 1945 White Sox. "Of course, Alice saw us coming," I murmured. Bella was clearly uneasy, but she followed close behind Carlisle as he walked toward the house. "Bella, this is Emmett, and Jasper," Carlisle said, giving them both a subtle 'stand down' gesture. Jasper seemed to have concluded that the newcomer's emotions were not aggressive, and he bowed, greeted her politely, and held the door as she and Carlisle entered. The remaining family members were assembled in the living room

I tried listening in to Alice's forecast through her thoughts, but all I got was more …_Floyd Baker, third base; bats left, throws right_… I tried to catch her eye, but she was focused on Bella like everyone else. Esme moved forward, smiling and holding her hand out to the newcomer. "Welcome, my dear. You're among friends here." Bella took her hand, smiling for the first time since we'd seen her - it was faint and tentative, but a smile all the same, and I found myself elated at the sight. She'd looked so unbearably sad before, it pained me to see it. Jasper gave me an appraising glance, but immediately focused his attention back on Bella; I could read through his thoughts the relief she felt, the sense of cautious hope, along with a hint of fear and distrust. I could understand that; the past months must have been a nightmare to the poor girl.

Carlisle looked around the room. "How much has Alice told you?"

"I could only tell what I'd seen," Alice said, "so just that she was there, alone; was a vegetarian; and was coming here with the rest of you."

"Vegetarian?" Bella repeated quietly.

"Those who don't hunt humans," Emmett explained. "Carlisle calls us vegetarians."

"You said that before, right?" Bella turned to Carlisle. "So there are people who _do _hunt humans?"

"Yes, the vast majority of our kind."

"And…exactly what is our kind?"

"Wow," Kate remarked. "She really _has_ been left out of the loop."

"You have no idea?" Tanya asked her.

"Not really. I mean, when I saw that I had been buried in the graveyard over there," she nodded in the direction of town, "I thought I must be a ghost. But it didn't quite fit. I mean, I was solid. And I also…got hungry." Her expression became bleak.

"No, not a ghost," Carlisle assured her, thinking _Go slowly; one matter at a time_. "And your grave is empty. No body was ever recovered."

"Then…what am I?"

It was such a plaintive question; I ached for her isolation, her confusion, her months of walking the earth thinking she was her own disembodied spirit.

"I don't want to alarm you, my dear, but you are a vampire. We all are."

In her expression, and through Jasper's gift, I could see her quick range of emotions: suspicion and doubt, followed by horror, then by comprehension. "So…hunting humans would mean drinking their blood?"

"Exactly."

"And none of you do that?"

"No. We feed only on animals. As do you, I take it."

"Right." She confirmed this casually, as if it had not been a tremendously difficult achievement. She was so…impressive! "But those others, they attack humans. They…" She cringed at little at whatever memory it brought back. I was frustrated at not being able to see it directly from her mind.

Tanya intervened. "Maybe we could begin at the beginning, and get an account of just what happened to you? It might be easier to make sense of it all."

"Of course, Tanya; very sensible," Carlisle said, "if you don't mind, Bella? Perhaps you could tell us for yourself what has happened since your arrival. You were meant to begin school here in January, I believe?"

"That's right. I was coming to stay with my dad." Sadness at the mention of Charlie Swan. "The weekend before I would've started school, I was visiting some friends with him."

"Was this at La Push?" Carlisle asked.

"Yes, that's right. They were watching sports on TV, and I got bored, so I said I was going to take a walk. The woods are really pretty there." She frowned, struggling to bring back the faint human memories. "I walked to a place where the woods end at a kind of low cliff, and it slopes down to the water. Three people seemed to appear out of nowhere. They were…I don't know, taunting me, trying to get me to run. When I did, they chased me. One of them started hurting me on purpose, like it was fun." Her shoulders hunched at the memory. I felt an overpowering desire to destroy the sadistic stranger, to attack and destroy anyone who would cause pain to this remarkable person; then, the rage abruptly dying down into something more like indignation. I realized Jasper had modified my emotions, and I glanced at him sheepishly.

Bella went on, "I tried to fight with him, but it was like fighting a stone statue. When I pushed at his face, he…it seems to me he bit off two of my fingers." She looked down at her perfectly intact hands. "That's one reason I thought I must be a ghost. The fingers are still there. Why?" She looked at Carlisle.

"During the process of transformation, from human to vampire, any injuries or imperfections are automatically healed."

"So they grew back!"

"Yes."

"Then…those three actually were vampires?"

"That's right. But how is it that you survived the attack?"

"Well, I'm not completely sure. The one…vampire, he bit off my fingers, and it started to burn." She touched the area on her hand. "Then he bit me again, right here." She indicated the left shoulder. "Then that spot began to burn as well. But just then, something knocked him away from me. It seemed like some kind of monster, leaping through the air right at him. More than one, but I'm not sure how many. I'm sorry, a lot of this is kind of blurry; I don't remember the details."

"It's all right, Bella. I'm sure we can follow you very well," Carlisle said with a reassuring smile.

She nodded, giving a tiny smile in return; I felt warmed at the sight. She carried on with more confidence. "I fell on the ground, screaming because of the burning. There was a fight, but I couldn't really follow who was fighting, who was winning, because they were all moving too fast to see." I could feel her terror swell, then subside as Jasper used his gift on her. I gave him a quick look of gratitude.

"I tried to run away," Bella continued. "It was hard, because of the burning, and because I'm not very steady on my feet at the best of times." She grinned self-consciously.

"I'm sure that's not the case any more," Tanya told her, smiling.

"No," Bella answered, seeming to be struck by the fact, "I suppose it's not. Well, anyway, I ended up falling off the cliff into the sand below, on the beach. They were still fighting; I could hear them up on the cliff. I started to run, but I stumbled into the water. I think I got very disoriented, and went in the wrong direction, because next thing I knew I was up to my neck in water. I grabbed a log that was floating near me - I must have dislodged it from the stack of lumber on the shore - and at that point, the pain really started spreading. The burning, you know?" She looked around at us, and several nodded. We knew very well - all except Alice, that is.

"So I hung onto the log, and tried not to scream, because I thought they could find me if I made noise. I just hung on, and let the log float me away on the current. I'm not even sure for how long, but eventually I found myself being washed to shore. I checked later; it was at the wildlife refuge, near Goodman Creek?" She looked up again, and Carlisle and I nodded that we knew the area. "I had some idea that I should get help, or get to a hospital, but I couldn't really travel. I just kind of burrowed under some brush and waited out the pain. There was nobody around; it was mid-January, you know? So I lay there, and eventually the burning stopped, and I stood up."

She stopped again, looking pensively down at the floor. In spite of Jasper's help, the feelings associated with this memory were bleak, and my heart went out to her.

"Everything was different," she said at last. "Confusing. I could see and hear - and smell - absolutely everything, so clearly; but I felt scattered. I couldn't make a decision. I didn't understand what was going on. And then I felt this burning thirst."

She got looks of sympathy all around.

"I thought later on, thank goodness I was in the woods in January, and there were no people for miles around. I started to run around, kind of aimlessly. Eventually I smelled something wonderful in the distance, and started to run toward it. But when I got there, it was a man, a forest ranger." We braced ourselves; surely, here was her one, previously unmentioned slip-up. "I wanted to…to do what that other one had done to me; to bite him, drink…"

She looked up at this point, as if expecting disapproval. "That is part of our nature, Bella," Carlisle told her. "What did you do?" he asked, in a carefully neutral tone.

"As soon as I realized what I wanted, I ran away as fast as I could." She paused, seeing us all react to that simple statement. "What?"

"We are just impressed, little newborn!" Tanya said with a bright smile.

"Well, what else could I have done? I couldn't just kill a man. And what do you mean, newborn?"

"A newly made vampire is referred to as a newborn," Carlisle explained.

"Yes, and they typically lack self-control," Eleazar added. "It is almost unheard of for a newborn, without outside guidance, to be able to voluntarily turn away from human blood. Perhaps," he mused, "it is part of her gift."

Our attention was turned toward Eleazar. "Gift?" Carmen repeated. "What kind?"

"She is a shield. A mental shield, very powerful it appears. It _may_ have protected her, to some extent, from her own impulses - although this is speculation, as such effects are unknown territory to me. It clearly _does_ protect her from the mental weapons of others, very effectively I should think. Edward, for instance, will have no access to her mind."

All eyes went to me. "That's true," I agreed. "I can't hear her thoughts at all."

"Interesting!" Carlisle exclaimed. "Has this ever happened to you before?"

"No, never."

"But," Bella protested, "why should he be able to hear my thoughts?"

"Ah!" Tanya replied. "Well, Bella, some of us enter this new life with gifts - special abilities. Edward's gift is the ability to read minds." Bella looked sidewise at me, her distrustful expression making Emmett snort with laughter. "Several of us have talents of this kind. Eleazar's is the ability to discern the gifts of others."

"I see." She looked rather taken aback. These talents weren't a standard part of vampire legends.

"And Alice has a spectacular one: she can tell the future." Alice curtseyed gracefully, and Bella actually chuckled, just a little. It was like the sun coming through the clouds.

"Except when she's concentrating on the past," I murmured for Alice's benefit. She was still systematically running through mid-20th century baseball statistics. I looked at her suspiciously, but she just smiled and mentally moved on to Gil Hodges' batting average.

"But Bella," Tanya concluded, "evidently has the ability to shield herself from gifts such as Edward's."

"But I'm not," Bella protested. "Shielding myself, I mean. I'm not doing anything."

Eleazar smiled at her. "That, my friend, is an indication of a particularly strong form of shield. It is in place by default, with no effort on your part. Your mind is, as it were, permanently shielded."

"It could be very useful, if developed," Jasper noted, thinking, as always, of the defensive capabilities.

"Useful, how?" Bella asked.

"In time, you could learn to expand it, to use it to shield others."

"Shield them from mind-reading?" She glanced at me again.

"Not just that. There are weapons that attack the mind. You would be impervious to many of those; perhaps to all of them." He looked to Eleazar, who gave a nod of confirmation. "You might be able to use your gift to protect others." She nodded thoughtfully, accepting his words, yet clearly still confused.

"But we are getting ahead of ourselves," Carlisle protested, "and overloading Bella with new information. Perhaps, Bella, you could continue with your account. What happened after you fled from the first human you encountered?"

"Well, I kind of wandered in the woods, trying to avoid any places people might go, like roads, in case…you know. But I kept getting thirstier, and at last, I…" She looked at us, as if ensuring what she would say was really acceptable. "I drank blood from an animal. I saw some deer off in the distance. They didn't smell as good, but I thought, at least they have blood; so I chased after them. I caught one, and…" She shrugged. "It helped. I kept doing that. Deer, coyotes, one time a moose; even raccoons and squirrels sometimes, because I remembered that there were too many of them in the area, and anyway…anyway, I figured it might keep me from hurting any people."

"Amazing! Well done, Bella!" Tanya exclaimed, and the others voiced their agreement. "I remind you, it is terribly uncommon for anyone to come to this kind of resolution completely on their own, and at such an early stage!"

Bella shrugged, uncomfortable with the attention; I remembered her eulogies, in which her great shyness and reserve was mentioned by several people who knew her. She looked directly at me, seeming to pause in mild surprise at what she saw, and I realized I was smiling - beaming, in fact, full of joy at her compassion and her accomplishment. I tried to tone down the smile a bit, but with little success. She scrunched up her face as though half amused, half provoked, and looked away, but the emotions filtered through Jasper's mind were friendly, embarrassed rather than genuinely annoyed. Jasper's gift, at the moment, was a lifeline; if I couldn't hear Bella's thoughts, at least I could get a glimpse of her emotions, and know her reactions to what was said.

"And what did you do then?" Alice urged her.

"Not very much, for a while. I wanted to go back to Charlie's house - my dad, that is - but I was afraid of maybe hurting him. I couldn't think of a way to let him know I was okay, and…and I wasn't sure if I really _was_ okay. I didn't really understand what had happened to me. That's when I saw the people from the funeral go to the graveyard. Charlie and my mom were there, and a lot of other people I knew. I saw them from a long way off. That night, I went to the grave where they had been, and the headstone had my name on it. That's when I thought I might be a ghost." She shrugged. "It sounds silly, I know, and ghost doesn't really fit; but I didn't have any other theory to go on."

"Of course," Carlisle replied.

"And then, a while back…" She hunched her shoulders again, as if afraid. "I saw those three again, the ones who…did this. They began coming toward me, and thinking about it afterward, I think they may have just wanted to talk to me; but at the time, I thought it was an attack. I started to run away, but more of those…" She looked up at Carlisle. "What I mentioned before? They looked like wolves; or was I imagining things?"

"No, you're correct; but perhaps we'll save that explanation for later. It's a bit complicated."

"Sure. Well, some of _them_ started coming from the other direction. Three of the, er, wolves jumped on the one with the long red hair, and the other wolves sort of guarded the rest of us, to keep us from getting away. One of the three vampires - three _other_ vampires, that is," she added, with a look that expressed the strangeness of placing herself in that category, "started cursing at me, thinking I had somehow brought the wolves to get them. He attacked me, and I fought back. Somehow I was much stronger than he was; it was strange."

"A newborn is very strong at first," Tanya explained. "You might well have defeated an older vampire."

_Especially_, Jasper noted to himself, _with her unusual level of self-control_. I met his eye and nodded agreement.

"Oh! Okay, well…I fought back, and before I knew it, I'd taken his head clean off." She glanced around the room once more, checking for signs of disapproval, but found none. "The wolves had killed the red-haired one, torn her to pieces; and I sort of…_threw_ the rest of the headless one at them as hard as I could, to keep them from reaching me, and then I ran away as fast as I could go. I could hear some of them chasing me for a while, but I finally left them behind. I stayed away from that area after that, and avoided anywhere I happened to pick up their scent - you know, that strange musty scent?"

"We know it very well," Rosalie said. "Awful!"

"Yeah, but at least it lets you know where to avoid."

"True."

"But why," Tanya asked, "did you remain in this general region, once you knew about the werewolves?"

Bella hesitated, her emotions becoming sombre. "I still hoped I might be able to contact my father, or maybe do something for him, let him know I was still…around." Our silence expressed to her what we avoided saying: that it was not feasible for her to have further contact with her parents. She seemed to pick up on this. "Maybe that's not really possible?"

"Not really, no," Irina said, not unkindly but firmly. "Maybe this would be the right time to mention day to day rules?"

"Perhaps," Carlisle agreed. "I'm sure you will have further questions about this, Bella; but for now, you should know that our kind are obliged to live under one or two laws, simple but inviolable. The first and most important is that we do nothing that might make humans aware of our existence. The penalty for this is death. Death for the one who gave us away, and for the humans who were informed."

Bella clearly grasped the implications. She would put her father in danger by trying to contact him. "I understand. But who enforces these rules?"

"Again, rather complicated. Perhaps we can set that aside for now, as well."

Jasper turned to her. "Avoiding him might actually be the kindest thing in any case. Your father was devastated at your death, but he has since grieved and begun to recover and move on. That would not be possible if you burdened him with your new existence, even assuming he believed and accepted it - and was not under a death sentence for knowing of it. He will not forget you, of course, but he will be happy again."

"And remarry," Alice added. At Bella's surprised look, she added, "Fortune teller, remember? He's courting the Widow Clearwater. Even with the occasional blind spots - long story, Bella - I can see them married within a year."

"Really? Wow, that's great, but…what widow?" Bella exclaimed.

"Sue Clearwater." Before Bella could contradict her, Alice explained, "Harry Clearwater died a while ago. Your father's been helping her out at home, and doing the mutual bereavement support thing, and," she declaimed dramatically, "from the ashes of their grief will blossom true love." She and Bella shared a grin, enjoying Alice's overblown description. _She and I are going to be great friends_, Alice thought, catching my eye.

There were more questions, but before the conversation could resume, Alice interjected, "Maybe Bella could take a break? You can see she's been roughing it. She should have a chance to take a shower and change those clothes, don't you think?" Noting Bella's dirty and bedraggled condition, and the clothing, consisting of a filthy shirt with one sleeve torn off, ripped and shredded jeans, and no shoes, we could only agree. Alice promptly took her by the hand. "Come on, Bella. Let's get you looking presentable," she said, dragging Bella up the stairs, calling out behind her, "Esme, I think you're closest to her size. I'm going to grab some of your things from your closet, okay?" Esme agreed, and soon we heard the water running upstairs, and Alice chattering happily to what was, evidently, going to be her very close friend. As the others excitedly talked over this new member of our community, my eyes kept wandering to the staircase. In spite of heartily agreeing with Alice that it was time to give Bella a break from all the questioning, in spite of being pleased that she had taken Bella away for some quiet time, I found myself having to restrain an overpowering urge to follow them.


	6. Bella At Home

"Well!" Irina exclaimed. "What a discovery!"

"I hope she chooses to stay on," Tanya said, "with one family or the other."

Voices dropped, as Carlisle conducted a quick consultation with the rest of us, too low for Bella to hear from upstairs, asking what everyone's take on Bella was, whether they felt she was trustworthy and would be an asset to the family, should she want to stay on with us. Meanwhile, Tanya held a similar council with her own clan. Jasper's read of her emotions went a long way toward recommending her, as did the glimpses of her likely future I described from Alice's mind. Bella received a unanimous thumbs-up.

I could hear in Tanya's thoughts the hope that Bella would join the Denalis, and found myself bristling at the idea, even as I recognized that Bella had every right to go where she chose. I wanted Bella here with my family; moreover, it distressed me to think of Tanya and her sisters initiating Bella into their succubus lifestyle. I had, I believe, avoided thinking harshly of their approach, but it irked me terribly to imagine Bella joining in. I heard Alice's thoughts also object to losing Bella to another coven, but after a quick look ahead, she assured herself that Bella would definitely choose to stay with us. To stay with Carlisle, more specifically; she already trusted him and saw him as a protector. I felt something shockingly close to envy at the way Carlisle had managed to win her confidence so quickly. I would have liked to be the one who convinced her…the one for whose sake she wanted to stay. I was annoyed at myself for this line of thought, and quickly suppressed it, just as I saw Jasper, looking sidewise in my direction, raise an eyebrow in surprise. I reminded myself that, just because I had posthumously stalked the poor girl, didn't mean I had any kind of claim on her society.

I looked up as Alice and Bella came down the stairs, chatting and laughing as if they were already the close friends Alice foresaw. My eyes went directly to Bella as she walked gracefully down the steps, thinking again that the human Bella I had taken such an interest in was merely the chrysalis producing the fully-formed butterfly I saw before me. She was slender and delicate, but with a warm femininity that was all the more agreeable for being unintentional and artless on her part. She was clean at last, dressed in a pretty blue sundress that was just a little large for her, and a pair of sandals. Her hair was no longer tangled and matted, but had been brushed out into glossy, mahogany-coloured waves that hung past her shoulders. She looked happy and confident, and the mood Jasper picked up from her was, more than anything else, hopeful. I was delighted that she was safe once again, that she would find shelter and companionship here, with my family. What an admirable sister she would make!

We continued the conversation, but very little came out that was new to me. Bella filled in a few more details about her time alone; and she confessed that she had cautiously approached the five of us, despite her fear of another attack, because she had overheard us talking, and thought we sounded civilized and friendly. She was isolated, and so desperate for some kind of information about herself, that she took the risk of speaking to another group like those who had attacked her and placed her where she was.

The others shared some of their own histories with her, offering further background on the vampire world and her own nature. Bella seemed happy to talk to any or all of the gathering, but it was Carlisle she continued to turn to, for confirmation of her ideas, for support, or for approval. Tanya's thoughts accepted, with some disappointment, that Bella had allied herself with us, and when the discussion had begun to run down, Tanya finally brought up the essential question. "Bella, my little group would be happy to offer you a place; but I think you already feel more comfortable with Carlisle's family. Isn't that so?"

Bella looked questioningly at Carlisle, who said, "You are more than welcome to join us, my dear. In fact, if I am not mistaken, Alice has been planning your accommodations since before you arrived."

"True!" Alice laughed.

"Oh! That's so nice, but…joining you - what would that mean, exactly?"

"Only that you would be part of our family; to live here with us, hopefully to travel with us when it is time to move on."

"So is there a contract of some kind?" Her emotions were a battle between hope and caution. It made sense: after months of solitude and confusion, the idea of a home, of friends, would be such a relief; but her past experiences with the nomads would move her to be wary.

Carlisle chuckled. "Not at all. The sole provisions are that you continue to hunt only animals - or at least, do your best to continue so - and do nothing to give our identity away to humans. Members of the family are free to leave if they wish. Some of us have taken time apart, then returned. We live together by choice, for safety and companionship."

"I see."

"No very specific demands would be placed on you, although we all do what we can to keep one another safe - particularly, safe from discovery - and to help and support one another as we can. We would be delighted to consider ourselves your family."

The others called out their agreement, even Rosalie, who almost made me laugh out loud with the smug thoughts running through her mind, that the new girl was no competition for her where looks were concerned, being, in Rosalie's eyes, a little plain. Plain! Let Rose believe that, if it made her feel better.

"Then…thank you, I would love to," Bella said, smiling as everyone welcomed her, Emmett giving a whoop and calling out, "Welcome, little sister!" and Alice clapping her hands in glee.

"Come on, then!" Alice sang out, grabbing Bella's hand once again. "Help me fix up your room the way you like it!"

Everything was settled with incredible ease. Alice and Esme readily gave up their second-floor sewing and amateur forgery room to provide a place for Bella. It was decorated by Alice and according to Alice's aesthetics, but taking Bella's tastes into account to some extent, resulting in something pretty but simple and understated by Alice's standards. As the family provided furnishings and conveniences, I impulsively purchased the best music system I could find, remembering the sad little tape deck back in human Bella's room, and placed it in her new quarters.

It was even a little strange, when I thought about it, how effortlessly Bella was accepted into the family; as if she belonged there, and we'd been simply holding a place for her. Even Rosalie accepted her without question - and even with a little sympathy, since Bella had been brought into our life not only by force, but when her human life was just beginning.

Tanya's family took their leave. Jasper had, apparently, carried through on his promise to speak with Tanya. I could catch snatches of their conversation in her mind: Tanya asking archly _Are you sure he's not just thinking it over?_ and Jasper replying firmly, _Believe me, I'm very sure. He's even less inclined now than when we were in Alaska; _and Jasper advising her not to push matters any further and threaten her friendship with me. I was uncomfortable, fearing I'd insulted her, but she bid me goodbye in a friendly enough manner. "No hard feelings?" she asked, offering her hand in a distinctly sisterly manner.

"Certainly not from my side," I replied, surprised.

"Not from mine, either," she assured me. "Best of luck to you, Edward."

"And to you, Tanya."

I was genuinely relieved to have that settled. I liked Tanya, and her family, and did not want this business hanging over us. I thanked Jasper for his intervention when we had a moment alone. "Happy to help," he said; but his thoughts on the subject were unusually skittish, as if there were more to the question than he was saying.

"Tanya wasn't offended?"

"No, not at all; only a little…persistent, and I wanted to make things clear to her, leave you with no loose ends." Again, his thoughts were quickly covered up, but it seemed to have little to do with Tanya, so I let it go. I do my best to allow people their inner privacy, to the extent that I can.

As expected, Alice spent a great deal of time with Bella, showing her the ropes, taking her hunting, answering questions about us and our way of life. To her frustration, she was unable to take Bella shopping for new clothes, since Bella was, of course, required to keep herself unseen for the time being; but Alice made up for it with online purchases, revelling in fittings and fashion shows which Bella clearly tolerated rather than enjoyed.

As summer wore on, we realized we might have to change our plans, as far as remaining in Forks another few years. Keeping a newborn concealed was risky at best; far more so in a town where she is recognizable by some. What's more, once Bella's newborn phase was over and her eyes has completely changed colour, she would want the opportunity to go out in public like the rest of us, and that would never be possible in Forks. We discussed our options and, with apologies to the prospective college students, we decided to relocate before fall. The usual preparations, from arranging for a house to establishing new identities, were initiated.

Bella turned out to be an asset to the family beyond what I'd expected. She did everything she could to fit in with our way of life, timidly but happily joining in with our pastimes. Everyone loved having her around. Jasper enjoyed her climate, as he called it. Alice was jubilant at having a best buddy, and while she and Bella seemed too different to be an obvious choice for best friends, somehow it seemed to work. Carlisle and Esme accepted her as a daughter with a warmth that gratified me deeply. Rosalie accepted her with as much friendliness as Rose was capable of. And Emmett enjoyed her sense of humour and the way she stood up to him. Emmett mentioned it to me while we were out hunting together. "New little sister is working out just fine, don't you think?"

"I do," I agreed, pleased as always to hear Bella well spoken of. "She's a wonderful addition to the family."

"Lots of fun, and a plucky girl, too!"

"You say that because she's not afraid of _you,_ I suppose."

He laughed. "Yeah, partly."

"Of course, she also fought off three mature vampires and a pack of werewolves, successfully."

"Right, that was something, wasn't it! Kind of wish I'd been there."

"And then, not going after humans from the start, while she was still a newborn, all alone and without any help."

"That's true! I've never heard of anybody managing that, except Carlisle."

"Exactly. And at least Carlisle knew what was happening to him, knew what vampires were. Bella had no idea what she was, and yet she figured out, on her own, that she was a threat to humans, and found a way to avoid hurting them. It's quite a feat!"

He nodded. "I guess you're right."

"And to top it off, she's got a powerful gift. The only person I wasn't able to read, ever. She's incredible."

"Wow, sounds like you've got some serious hero worship going on!"

I shrugged, laughing. "I guess I have."

He teased me about it a little, saying it's easy enough to idolize the one person whose mind I couldn't read. It didn't bother me. I felt that I knew enough about Bella, through one means or another, to feel secure in my admiration.

At first, I got to know Bella indirectly, through her friendship with the others. I watched her warm relationship with Carlisle continue, and extend to Esme; saw her become pals with Alice; was as surprised by her confident banter with Jasper as by Jasper's enjoyment of it; rolled my eyes at Emmett's big-brotherly teasing; and approved of Rosalie's sisterly acceptance. My own relationship with her, however, remained a little distant and once-removed for a while. I still saw her, to some extent, as an unexpected revival of the human Bella, for whom I'd had a peculiar fascination. She'd been the first human I'd taken a genuine interest in for a century, and the catalyst for a revival of my own when I'd reached a low ebb. To have her return to life as a vampire and join my household was…just a bit staggering. It took time to process. As I learned more about her, both by watching her and through Jasper's readings of her emotions, I found myself transferring my fascination from dead, human Bella to the new, permanent one, and that was what finally drove me to know her better for myself.

Realizing that she had very little music to play on her state-of-the-art system, I offered to lend her any CDs of mine that she might fancy. That led to a fairly easy conversation about music, and I suggested she look over my collection and feel free to borrow whatever she might find. She hadn't been in my room before, and seeing her walk through the door had a curiously momentous feel to it. "Wow!" she exclaimed, seeing my shelves of CDs, and the occasional vinyl album. "Quite a collection!" She began looking through the neatly stacked selections, occasionally exclaiming over something interesting, or familiar, or completely new to her.

She glanced around the room at one point. "Very different from my room," she noted evenly.

I grinned, understanding what she was getting at. "_I_ didn't have Alice do my decorating."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is it even possible to avoid?"

I laughed. "Just barely. I insisted on choosing my own furnishings this time, when I saw a brocade chaise longue in her plans." She nodded sympathetically. "Maybe you can try to gain some control of the process for our next move."

That made her frown a little. "End of August is the plan, right?"

"Yes." She seemed pensive, and I wished I could know what was in her mind. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, not at all. I was just thinking, I won't see my dad again after that. I hope he'll be okay."

My heart went out to her, and my admiration increased. With all she had to deal with, and to learn, she still felt responsible for her former father's happiness. I felt a strong impulse to help somehow. "He'll be happy. Alice saw it, and she's almost never wrong."

"Oh, I know, and I believe her. But I still worry." She made a face. "He doesn't take good care of himself. He has almost no savings, you know? No retirement fund or whatever. He's planning to live on his pension, and it isn't that huge."

I was relieved to find something I might actually be of help with. "That's easily remedied, actually." She looked at me in surprise. "Thanks to a combination of time and an in-house fortune teller to guide investments, we have access to virtually unlimited funds. We could easily provide for your father's retirement."

Her eyes widened. "That would be…but…you couldn't just go and hand him a pile of money. He'd have questions…"

"Yes, but we can arrange for him to come into the money by some plausible means. Winning a contest, an inheritance from a long-lost relative, the possibilities are endless." Elated at having a way to help her, I babbled on, "I'll talk to Carlisle. I'm sure he'll agree, and we can work out a method."

"Thank you," she said. "You've all been just amazing. I don't even know what to say." She shook her head helplessly.

"No, no, it's nothing," I assured her quickly. "We're so happy to have you here. All of us. You're so…" I wound down, at a loss for words. I was happy but strangely flustered. It was so gratifying to do something that made her happy.

We talked on, letting the conversation wander wherever it would, as we left my room, paused to place Bella's chosen music in her room, and walked downstairs. When Bella went to the door, I unthinkingly followed her outside, and we strolled across the grass, through Esme's garden, and on into the surrounding woods, still engrossed in our aimless discussion. When Bella paused to look around, admiring the green canopy overhead, I impulsively asked her, "Would you like me to show you a favourite spot of mine?" I paused, a little surprised at myself for offering to share my private sanctuary, but at her enquiring look, I went on, "It's a very lovely area I came upon one day. I like to go there when I'm in the mood for quiet and solitude."

"You won't have any solitude if I go with you," she pointed out, smiling.

I felt myself smile in return. "No, but I'd like to…to show you; that is, if you wouldn't mind…"

"No, I'd like that."

I led her through the trees, to where the land began to slope upward. Exuberant, I began to run without thinking, but when I looked back, she was running just behind me, grinning and happily chasing me up the steep hillside. When we arrived at the wide, horizontal shelf of land, I stopped, turning and awkwardly presenting the place to her. She had no noticeable reaction for a few seconds, only stood still, looking around; and for a moment, I had second thoughts. The place seemed special to me, but to others it might only seem an uninspiring patch of land. I wished, once again, that I could tell what she was thinking. Then she took a step forward. "So beautiful!" she murmured. "It's like a wild little garden! Just look at the flowers! I love it!"

I was relieved. The meadow was blooming with summer wildflowers, completely covered with blossoms of every colour, the occasional butterfly fluttering among them, with a backdrop of vines covering the rock face behind it. It had always seemed to me like a sanctuary of natural beauty, one I'd never shown to anyone until today. And Bella felt just as I did about it. I felt giddy with relief.

We basked in the quiet beauty, at first in silence; then our conversation casually started up again. Feeling that we were on good enough terms by now, I took the opportunity to ask her some of the questions that had occurred to me since Bella had come to live with us: simple questions, like her favourite colour, or flower, or gemstone; and more complex ones, such as her feelings about her home in Arizona, whether she had grown comfortable with hunting, if she was finding herself at ease with her new family. From there, we talked about the family members and the relations between them; she expressed great warmth toward them all, ranging from her easy friendship with Alice to the grave respect she felt for Carlisle. I made her laugh with stories of our past adventures as a family, delighted to share my history with her and make her even more one of us.

When she confessed her uncertainty about being able to fulfill the role of Cullen adequately, I was able to reassure her. "We've had new members who were newborns, completely out of control; but they all learned to live within the family, and they all became valuable to us. You're already ahead of the game: you're the calmest, most controlled newborn any of us have seen."

"I've been told that. Why would that be, anyway?"

"We don't know. Carlisle has a theory, which you've heard."

"Yeah, that it's a side-effect of this shield I supposedly have?"

"You _definitely_ have a shield. No one else has ever blocked me from reading their thoughts; and Kate tried her gift on you as well." She shook her head, still finding it hard to believe she had special talents. She didn't regard herself as special, which seemed a shame, when she was so remarkable in so many ways. "We all work for the common good in this family, but it's not a matter of being given assignments. Somehow we all fall into the task that we enjoy, and that we have a talent for. You will, too; I'm sure of it." She seemed satisfied with that.

At dusk, we descended the mountain, more slowly than we'd climbed it, sometimes talking, sometimes walking in companionable silence. I returned home still drifting on the pleasant emotional current created by the happy day I'd had; Jasper smiled faintly as we entered the house. Remembering my promise to Bella, I went to Carlisle immediately, to ask about arranging a bequest of some kind for Charlie Swan. He was more than willing to undertake it, and he, Jasper, and Emmett put their heads together to come up with a plan. Bella gave me a grateful look, and I found myself smiling almost continually through the rest of the evening, as the family gathered to talk. I went to my piano, playing softly while joining in the conversation and merriment, taking pleasure in both.

When the couples finally took their leave for the night - Carlisle had a rare day off, and he and Esme joined them in pairing up - Bella did not, as usual, retire to her own room, but remained behind on the ground floor. Alice paused on the staircase. "You'll be all right, Bella?" she asked. "You can wait until morning to hunt?"

"Oh, sure," she said. I realized it had been a few days, long enough for a newborn.

"You should have said something earlier!" I protested. "You could have gone during the day, when we were out." The family still insisted on Bella having someone with her while hunting, although she had been quite reliable so far.

"_You_ could take her, Edward," Alice pointed out.

"Of course, I'd be happy to. If you don't mind, that is, Bella."

"No, I don't mind," she replied, suddenly looking shy and failing to catch my eye.

"Good, all taken care of, then," Alice said casually, following Jasper up the stairs. She was once again masking her thoughts, this time by mentally reciting _Cupid and Psyche_, breaking off the poetry recital abruptly when, presumably, Jasper drew her mind to other matters. I blocked her thoughts, and turned back to Bella.

"Is there an area you prefer?" I asked.

"Maybe you can choose the direction," she suggested, "since I've never gone hunting with you before."

It was true; and I'd wondered when I'd have a chance. Each of us have our own style of hunting, one that often parallels our personality: Emmett, a straightforward attack based purely on physical strength; Carlisle, quick and methodical, mercifully stunning the animal first with a precise blow to the base of the skull; Alice, at once playful and ruthless. I was curious as to what Bella would be like.

We ran to my preferred hunting grounds: south-east, to the foothills near the Bogachiel River. She ran gracefully but with no conscious efforts at grace, taking simple enjoyment in the act of running, and occasionally making great leaps for the sheer pleasure of it. We located nothing better than deer, but Bella seemed content with that. Her hunting style was…fierce. She did not play with her prey, but having sighted it, she chased it down and dispatched it with a single minded ferocity that, frankly, delighted me. Bella in mid-hunt was a thousand miles from the diffident human she had been, that she still retained a glimmer of much of the time. Pursuing what she desired, she was strong, resolute, and fearless, and full of joy at her own strength and speed. She made me feel, for the first time, that vampires were not only stronger and faster than humans, but truly more beautiful.

We wandered the hills, alternately talking together, and running through the trees. I found myself sharing Bella's delight at her own strength, and we competed at leaping over the river, climbing to the treetops, jumping from tree to tree, laughing together. When the sun rose, I watched the sparkle of sunlight against her skin, this time seeing not an unnatural monster, but only a beautiful woman who glistened like a jewel. Then I saw the sun strike my own hands, and for once did not look away in loathing. We arrived home well after sunrise, the entire family already downstairs for the day.

Much of the morning was spent finalizing details for our relocation, less than a month away now. Jasper had our new paperwork, with false names once again. Carlisle and Esme had adopted Esme's former surname, Platte, and Bella would become Marie Platte to the outside world. The family had also contrived a way to have Charlie Swan end up financially secure without arousing suspicion. Bella once more expressed her gratitude. I could read her emotions through Jasper's mind: along with being grateful and happy, there was a touch of nostalgia, presumably coming from thoughts of her father, and also a feeling of resolution and acceptance, which eased my mind. She harboured no resentment or discontent over her present life.


	7. Moving On

We were gathered in the oversized living room, as usual of an evening. I was at my piano, a little removed from the others, and Bella was wandering about the room as if restless, idly examining the furnishings and the paintings on the wall, and participating only slightly in the general discussion. She stopped near the piano and stood, watching me play. We exchanged a smile. I unthinkingly tuned in to Jasper's mind, simply because I wanted to know how she felt about the music I was playing. Suddenly my mind was full, overwhelmed by the emotions coming from Bella. My eyes widened as I took it in. I couldn't tell what her thoughts were, but her emotions were all directed at _me_. I felt a deep appreciation of beauty - of _my_ beauty! - along with so many other feelings. Admiration and esteem, on the surface. Beneath that, affection that went beyond that of a sister, an ardent, devoted attachment. Finally, an intense yearning, both physical desire, and a burning need for my presence. And running through it all, a poignant aura of uncertainty and hope. All this, emanating from Bella, and directed at me.

It was breathtaking. I stopped playing the piano, stopped listening, stopped thinking. I stared at her, wide-eyed. When her eyes met mine, acknowledging everything, I felt myself sinking into her gaze. I felt as if I'd been teetering on the edge of a precipice for weeks, and only now made the decision to let myself fall. As I fell, everything changed. I felt the locks and chains that had restrained my heart and body for so many decades break - no, not break, simply melt away effortlessly. It was Bella, all along; she had the key! In an instant I was completely open to her, vulnerable and defenceless, entirely hers. The momentous event had taken place with no fanfare, no conscious decision. She was my life now.

I realized, without much caring, that we were staring, immobile, into one another's eyes; and that the family had fallen silent, aware of our mutual captivation. I didn't care. I could see our emotions reflected back at us as Jasper received them, and read his own satisfaction with it all; and the satisfaction of the rest of the family as they took in what was happening. I heard Alice whisper, "Finally!" and understood, distractedly, that this was the expected outcome of the unclear vision she'd had long ago, back in Alaska - the vision of me, finding my mate at last. I turned to Alice momentarily in surprise, saw her smiling, and turned back to Bella without even asking a question; I couldn't take my eyes off Bella long enough to confirm what I was hearing. It didn't even matter.

The family overlooked our rather rudely shutting them out. After a moment, they went on as before, talking and laughing and playing chess, pretending to ignore the two of us standing, enthralled, in the far corner of the room. I managed to work through my amazement and disbelief, my automatic sense of unworthiness, and to accept what was happening, in a remarkably short period of time; and I could see Bella absorb the fact that her love was returned, and exult along with me. We circled each other slowly, as if growing accustomed to a new planet's unfamiliar gravity. When we wandered aimlessly out the door together, still without a word, the family said nothing, only noted it with varying inward benedictions and best wishes.

We walked together for miles, at first silent, then expressing ourselves with outbursts that made little sense, consisting of speaking one another's name aloud, or uttering a word or two before trailing off helplessly. At last we were able to talk coherently, to convey our passion to one another. I doubted I had the words, the poetry, to explain my feelings properly, but Bella seemed more than satisfied. As for me, just the knowledge that Bella shared my devotion was enough; to hear her speak the words was pure joy.

Without any conscious decision, we walked in the direction of my meadow, once again racing and laughing as we ran up the hillside, but this time holding hands as we did. Even the touch of her hand in mine was a delight. We reached the meadow, took in the deep colours of the wildflowers in the vivid darkness. Unexpectedly, she lifted her face as if in invitation, and I realized that I could kiss her now - that I _should_ kiss her, because she was mine, and I was hers. I had an epiphany: I wasn't a monster, not if I chose not to be. Bella, who loved me, was the same sweet human girl I'd cherished from afar, only made beautiful and swift and unbreakable so that she could be my mate. And if she was not a monster, then her beloved partner, myself, could not possibly be. In accepting her, I was able to accept myself.

I carefully pressed my lips to hers, and she inhaled sharply, embracing me and returning the kiss fervently. I had no sooner put my arms around her than she, seeming overcome by emotion, abruptly seized me and pulled me down, into her arms and on top of her on the soft grass. Her sudden passion shocked and captivated me, and without thinking I returned her embrace. We kissed, locked together in devastating bliss. I had fleeting thoughts: that I had no experience with this kind of thing, and neither did Bella, which made me happy - and seemed to hamper us not at all; that Tanya's supposedly mind-boggling charm had been weak and pitiful and irrelevant, compared to what I now felt for Bella; and finally, that I'd vastly and unjustly underestimated the power of sexual attraction, and owed my amorous family members an apology for sometimes mentally rolling my eyes at their obsession. But soon even these fragmented thoughts fled, leaving room in my mind only for Bella. She pulled back slightly and began to hastily unbutton my shirt, and I helped her, removing her clothing with a sense of urgency unclouded by any other considerations. For a split second, I wondered that I had not followed my ingrained sense of propriety and insisted on our being married first, but it seemed so immaterial now. One day, perhaps, Bella would agree to a wedding, but right now I knew delay was impossible. I might have, with considerable effort, been able to control my own all-encompassing lust; but Bella wanted me, and to refuse my mate when she pleaded for something within my power to give seemed inconceivable. If she had been human still, the fear of injuring her might well have kept me under control; but there was no such fear to inhibit me.

We finally paused after six hours. We lay entwined on a bed of flowers, gazing at one another. Bella was magnificent, completely adorable; and I was filled with incredulous joy to see the same feelings reflected on her face as she looked back at me. "How I wish I could see your thoughts!" I murmured. It was the one thing missing; and I was sure her mind would be as beautiful as the rest of her.

"It would be unfair," she replied calmly, "since I can't see yours."

"I hadn't thought of it that way." Being able to read her mind would have made us unequal, and on reflection, that was distasteful to me. We were perfectly matched, one another's friends and allies, comrades and protectors. Why would I want to hold such an advantage over her? Besides, her mind would be able to offer me one thing no one else could: the gift of silence. "I think you're right; it's better this way."

She smiled. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know, anyway."

"So will I," I assured her. That reminded me of another matter. "In fact, I have a confession to make." She raised an eyebrow, curious. "I never met you, or even saw you, when you were human," I began, then considered a moment. "If I had, I wonder…"

"I probably would have fallen in love with you at first sight."

I shook my head; it seemed unlikely. "I don't know. I'm afraid I might have reacted rather differently." I told her of my response to the traces of her blood. "Your actual, living blood would have been overpowering. You were meant to be in at least one of my high school classes. If you'd come into the classroom that first day, I'm not sure…" I shuddered at the thought.

Bella stared at me. "So…when that nomad attacked me, he actually saved me from death two days in the future, without knowing it!"

"Yes, I suppose he did. Saved you from death at my hands, which is painful to even contemplate."

She nodded soberly. "I'm so glad we didn't meet then. Even if you hadn't killed me on sight, imagine what we would have gone through before we could finally be…as we are now."

"So true. But there's more."

"More confessions? What else have you been up to?" she asked with a teasing smile.

"I didn't meet you when you were human, not in person; but I did get to know a little about you." I told her how I learned bits and pieces from her father, from the mourners at her funeral, even from her photographs and the overheard comments and thoughts of her family members. With some embarrassment, I described sneaking into her bedroom, studying her belongings, her books and music, and becoming strangely captivated by this absent stranger. I was relieved to find she was not offended by my bizarre stalking behaviour. "It was so odd," I mused. "My obsession seemed to awaken feelings that had died, or at least lain dormant, for decades. It was as if your ghost was preparing me to meet and fall in love with the real Bella at last."

She shook her head. "But when you met me for real, it wasn't like that, was it? You treated me like a sister."

I pondered this. "I saw you that way - and yet I didn't. I…" I grinned sheepishly. "Jasper has told me I tend to repress my emotions. In retrospect, I think that's what was going on. Once I realized that you felt the same about me…" I met her eyes, and was nearly distracted from what I was saying. "…everything was suddenly set free. It was like falling off a cliff. But I can understand now that I'd walked off the cliff some time ago." I laughed suddenly. "Just like that ridiculous coyote."

"Coyote?" she repeated, mystified.

"Yes, the cartoon coyote. He would walk off the edge of a cliff, straight across thin air; and only when he became aware of it did he finally fall." I looked at her, momentarily unsure whether I was merely ranting ludicrously; but she nodded recognition, grinning. "I was in love with you before I allowed myself to know it."

"It sounds as if you were waiting for my permission," she giggled.

"Perhaps. After all, _you_ said not a word to me about how you felt."

"I was waiting for you. You seemed so…brotherly, I wasn't sure if I had any chance. Alice kept hinting…"

"Oh, yes; Alice. I do believe she's been seeing this future for some time, and hiding it. I'll have a word with her once we get back home."

"How soon is that likely to be?" she asked innocently, tightening her hold on me and pressing closer.

Another six hours passed. Far from becoming accustomed to the experience of lovemaking, it seemed to become more exciting, more intense, as time went on. Even the sensation of Bella's hand stroking my face, her lips grazing my ear, were electric, rapturous. It was as if she could do nothing wrong, could not touch me in any way that was not exquisite; and what's more, the same applied to me. Everything I did, every movement, every caress, seemed to make her euphoric, frenzied with passion; and the experience of pleasing her was bewitching to me, made me all the more hungry for her. Caught up in this endless, self-regenerating cycle of desire, how on earth could we ever bring ourselves to stop?

We paused once more in the late afternoon, spoke briefly of returning to the house, and almost immediately dismissed the idea and fell into each other's arms again. We made love through a second night, and when the sun rose, making Bella's lovely face shimmer like diamonds, we paused again, allowing the outside world to intrude on our consciousness. "Will they be worried about us?" she asked.

"Likely not. I think they have some idea what happened to us."

Bella grimaced. "It'll be kind of embarrassing, coming back home." She ran a hand through her dishevelled hair.

I chuckled. "A little, perhaps. But it's happened to all of them over the years, and I witnessed their homecomings in tolerant silence. They owe me."

She sighed and sat up. "Maybe we _should_ go home." She looked over at me. "For a little while, anyway."

"At the very least," I pointed out as we got to our feet and began to dress, "we'll be able to retire to our room together at night, along with the other couples."

She stopped and looked at me. "It must have been sad for you sometimes, being the only one alone."

I started to brush off the question, not wanting her to feel badly, but I balked at being dishonest, treating her as if she weren't strong enough for the truth. I understood now that she was strong enough for anything. "Yes, sometimes it was. But having you now makes up for everything."

She adjusted her clothing and tried once more to smooth out her hair. "Which room is our room? Yours, or the one Alice fixed up for me?"

I laughed as we started back down the mountain path. "Whichever you prefer. Although I like the idea of taking my room, and exorcising the lonely bachelor spirits from it." She put an arm around me as we walked, rubbing her forehead soothingly against my shoulder, and any remaining trace of those lonely nights evaporated forever.

The family - apart from Carlisle, who was on duty at the hospital - were together when we arrived at the house, and had obviously been notified by Alice that we were on our way. They did not exactly greet us with applause, but the way they all stood, smiling at us as if celebrating a significant and happy event, came across as silent cheers of support. "I told you!" Alice exulted, bouncing with gleeful triumph.

"Actually, you carefully avoided telling me," I corrected her, "even in your thoughts. I _knew_ there was a reason I kept getting a test pattern."

"I told you over two years ago that you would be meeting your mate at last!"

"Yes, and that's the last time you mentioned it. I'm sure you saw something more, especially after Bella came to Forks."

"I did, but I also saw the likely outcome if I told you about it."

Bella and I looked at each other. "Alice, what on earth could have gone wrong? I would have simply met Bella earlier than I did. Maybe saved her from months of being alone in the woods before Carlisle found her."

"More to it than that," she said grimly.

The others were gathered around, listening. "I suppose she's already filled you in?" I asked them all.

"Yes," Rosalie said, "and she certainly had her reasons."

"I'm sure she did," Bella put in unexpectedly. "Alice wouldn't withhold something like that unless there was a very good reason. Right, Alice?" Alice beamed at this loyal tribute. They really _had_ become the best of friends.

"To begin with," Alice went on, "when Bella first arrived in Forks, she was _human_."

"For about 24 hours," Bella murmured.

"If you'd encountered Bella when she was still human, Edward, you'd probably have killed her at once." I gasped, recognizing the horrible truth of this. "You told Bella about her special blood?"

"I did. Yes, you're right about that."

"It looked like about 80% probability." At my grave look, she went on, "You _might_ have been able to avoid attacking her - maybe 20% chance of that, not great. But one future had you deciding to leave the area immediately, and never getting together with Bella. You might even have controlled yourself, and stayed around long enough to fall in love. But that would lead to months, maybe years, of suffering for you, uncertainty for her; not to mention anguish over whether you had any right to transform a girl who wasn't near death. Not such a happy love story, for either of you. Plus, there was a possible, crazy future in which you decided to challenge those three nomads before one of them bit Bella, leading to…some very bad stuff. No outcome was ideal, and all of them were much too risky."

"Granted," I said, shaken by her vision. "But what about after she had been changed?"

"A lot of that was iffy, too. I saw you trying to protect her from the other vampires, and protect her from the werewolves. Significant chance you didn't make it out alive."

"But Bella fought them off successfully on her own!" I pointed out.

"Same thing I said," Emmett remarked. "Didn't seem to make sense, right?"

"I know," Alice said, "and I can't explain it all, because of course, I couldn't see what went on when those giant dogs were in the picture. But I pieced it together from other visions. Bella's fight was kind of a perfect storm. She was an über-strong newborn, arriving at just the right second, with just the right motivation, and, it seems, with the right set of werewolves."

"The right werewolves?" Bella repeated, mystified.

"At least one of them knew you from before - from when you were human, and recognized you. There was some hesitation about attacking you, just enough to let you get away safely. But," she went on firmly, "that probably wouldn't have happened if Bella had backup. Again, this part isn't as clear to me, but I did see Bella getting away safely, provided she was left to herself."

"All right," I conceded. "I can see why that had to be withheld. But once Bella had been changed, and had won the fight, and was wandering on her own - you couldn't have let me know she was there?"

Alice hesitated. "You won't like this," She warned. I waited. "You weren't ready."

"I wasn't? What are you talking about? Ready for what?"

"Ready to be with Bella. I don't know exactly what you were going through then - I'm not the mind reader, right? just the fortune teller - but if you'd met too early, you wouldn't be ready for a mate, and would have argued that Bella would be better off with Tanya's family, and 90-92% she would have gone back to Alaska instead of coming to live with us."

I stared at her. "I understand, but…all those months, alone and frightened, before we finally found her. She could have been spared that!"

"But it was worth it," Alice replied blithely. As I opened my mouth to disagree, she turned to Bella. "Wasn't it worth it, Bella?"

Bella smiled at her. "Absolutely. Well worth it."

That stopped me. "If you think so, then…then I suppose I have to agree that Alice was right." I glared at my sister a little anyway, for being so high-handed, but I had to admit that the final outcome was highly satisfactory.

"So," Alice said, with the air of getting on with more important matters, "when's the wedding?"

"Excuse me?" Bella exclaimed. "What wedding?"

"Alice," I growled, "couldn't you have waited until I'd proposed, at least?"

"Oops!"

Bella turned to me. "You want to have a wedding? Isn't that only for humans?"

"Not necessarily. Rosalie and Emmett have had several," Esme pointed out helpfully. "And Carlisle and I were married…a few years after I came to live here."

"A few years sounds good," Bella said.

"But I _love_ planning weddings!" Alice complained. "And it's very important to Edward."

"Conventional early-20th century upbringing," Jasper offered in clarification, "combined with idealistic elements in his education."

"Thank you, Dr Freud," I retorted, but he only smiled, and I smiled back.

"If it's really that important to Edward," Bella conceded, "I guess I can see my way to it. But he's right, Alice; I think he wants to do the whole proposal thing in peace." I huffed a little at the dismissive _proposal thing_, but said nothing.

"Fine. Get back to me when it's in the works."

"Meanwhile," I said, "you'll be glad to know you and Esme can get your dressmaking and espionage space back. Bella will be sharing my room in future."

"Espionage?" Bella asked, intrigued.

"We'll get to that. Shall we do some furniture moving?" I rose and headed for the stairs, taking Bella's hand as I went.

"So," Emmett called out jovially after me, "goodbye to a century of virginity!"

"Thank God for that!" I called back as I ran up the stairs, Bella laughing as she ran beside me.

We tied up a few loose ends before making our move to our new location, a remote house, surrounded by wild area, in the most overcast region in Ohio. Unsure of whether Bella was quite ready for the experience of high school yet, we chose a different cover story, one in which Carlisle was still a doctor, but most of the 'foster kids' were students at nearby Ohio State University. Only Bella, newly documented as 18-year-old Marie Platte, had chosen a different path, and after high school worked out of her home, running a successful and lucrative online clothing store - which, in reality, was managed by her and Alice. Mostly by Alice.

Carlisle and I made a final visit to the Quileute land, one he saw as necessary, although it made me a little nervous. When the usual group of muscular men - and one young woman - met us at the boundary line, they were no friendlier than before. "Well?" snapped Sam.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you," Carlisle said mildly. "We wanted to let you know we're leaving the area."

"Good," muttered one of the younger ones.

"We'll be gone by the end of summer. However, we also wanted to inform you of a change in our family."

"What change?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"An eighth member." They seemed to tense. "She has never yet harmed a human, and we will do our best to make sure she never does. We'd like you to regard her as part of our family, and therefore covered by the same treaty."

"We're under no obligation to any new members," another clan member grumbled.

"Technically, no. But you did accept the other two that had joined us, given that they do not hunt humans. What's more, this new addition once helped you rid the area of predatory vampires." They looked confused. "As I understand it, she decapitated one of them, then threw him at you in order to escape."

They looked at each other, startled. "I remember," Sam said, "but Jacob told us…was that really Bella Swan?"

"Yes, that's right. She was bitten by one of those three, and finally found her way to us. Perhaps under the circumstances, and for Chief Swan's sake, you'll consider granting clemency to his daughter."

They looked sad and disturbed. "Yeah, we can do that," Sam answered at last. "If she doesn't hurt any people, like you said. Consider her covered by the treaty."

"Excellent. Please be so kind at to note that for future reference." At Sam's questioning look, Carlisle explained, "We will probably want to live here again at some point. When we return, which may be many years in the future, I hope you will recall that the treaty is with a family of eight."

Sam nodded. "Consider it done." When we didn't move, he asked, "Anything else?"

"Bella has a request - merely an informal, friendly request. She asks that you look after her father." Sam blinked in surprise. "She understands that she can have no further contact with him, but is still concerned for his welfare. We have arranged for him to receive a stipend, so his retirement will be comfortable."

Picking up some passing thoughts from the group, I added, "The money will also benefit Mrs Clearwater, who has been left with minimal means of support by her late husband's death, or so I understand. We have reason to believe that Charlie Swan's circumstances and income will eventually be hers as well." They looked surprised, but did not attempt to deny it. There was a sense of guilt for Harry Clearwater's death running through some of their thoughts, which made this news particularly welcome to them.

Carlisle continued, "Bella asks that you not blame Chief Swan for his daughter's situation."

"'Course we wouldn't!" exclaimed one of the young men. "It's not his fault!'

"No, certainly not. And I'm also sure you don't even need to be asked to see to his safety; but the reassurance would be much appreciated by Bella."

Sam nodded. "Tell her we'll do our best for him."

"Thank you."

As we walked away from the boundary line, I said, "What an amazing phenomenon they are - the wolf pack. It's too bad they're so hostile to us. It might have been an interesting experience to get to know them better."

Carlisle looked doubtful. "Perhaps. But as Alice might say, I suspect that could have lead to some _iffy_ outcomes. I believe things are better with them out of the picture."

Tanya's family paid us a farewell visit, which had Emmett full of high hopes for an entertainingly awkward reunion between Tanya and myself, and perhaps even a bit of a spat between Tanya and Bella. "If there is," Jasper remarked coolly, "my money is on Bella."

"Seriously? She's so…calm! Even as a newborn, she never got real wild."

"That might be misleading." At Emmett's skeptical look, he added, "Bear in mind that she successfully fought off three vampires and a pack of werewolves, with no training."

"Yeah, there was that," Emmett agreed thoughtfully.

"She's unlikely to start a fight, I agree; but stand back if anyone ever threatens Edward. Or, probably, any of us."

"Good thing she's on our side, then," Emmett laughed. Jasper agreed, but in all seriousness.

I didn't care for this speculation, or for the prospect of a fight between Bella and Tanya, but tried to tell myself that the possibility was remote. I looked over at Alice for reassurance. "Not happening," she declared. "Everyone will be strictly civil and well-bred. Although I can't vouch for Tanya avoiding any catty thoughts."

"She has absolutely no reason to…"

"I know, I know. But she may be a little miffed, even so."

"Her pride is wounded, that's all," Jasper pronounced with authority. "You're her first failure in a very long time."

I looked at Bella, afraid she'd be upset. I'd never fully explained to her about Tanya, and she'd instead received Emmett's slightly ribald version of events. But Bella was grinning happily. "Tanya failed where I succeeded," she said, with great complacency. "That must be hard to take. But I can be gracious in victory."

"You know," Jasper said carefully, "you refused her for Bella's sake, in a sense."

I stared at him. "How could that be? I didn't even know Bella existed yet!"

"No, but…" He glanced at Bella, a question in his mind of whether I minded talking openly about this. I nodded for him to go on; I felt no need to protect Bella from the truth. "Whether you realized it or not - and it seems you did not - you were saving yourself for someone. Yes, preserving your chastity for your one true love, in keeping with your late Victorian world view. It felt important to you; it felt…hopeful."

"Hopeful?"

"It meant you were still waiting for someone; for your mate. If you'd given in to Tanya, it would mean you'd abandoned all hope, and you weren't quite ready to give up hope."

What he was telling me felt plausible, unaware as I'd been of my own feelings. Catching my eye, Jasper showed me his perception of my emotions from that time, in a kind of panorama. It was something he'd done before; it felt like having a mirror held up to me, one that showed me not my physical appearance, but my emotions. I could see myself, my inner self, during my visits with Tanya, but from Jasper's clearer, more objective viewpoint. "I think you must be right," I finally admitted, my eyes on Bella, the one who had finally fulfilled my increasingly faint hopes.

The visit was, as Alice had foretold, perfectly polite. I caught Tanya wondering how I could have been so cold toward her, yet fallen so hard for a girl with, as Tanya saw it, moderate beauty and no glamour or sex appeal to speak of. Following Bella's example of graciousness in victory, I happily and rather disdainfully allowed Tanya to see it that way, if it gave her comfort. Eleazar marvelled once again at Bella's impenetrable gift, and offered some suggestions for developing it further. After a pleasant few days' visit, the Denali wished us well, hoped we would once again live within easy reach of one another very soon, and returned to Alaska. "Tanya's nice," Bella commented after their departure.

"Yes," I agreed, "very nice."

Jasper caught Emmett's eye. "_You_ must be disappointed," he smirked. "No cat fight. Not so much as a harsh word."

Esme smiled at them. "Bella's not much for conflict."

"That's true." Emmett sighed, resigned.

"It's a good thing their entire romance was so simple, then," Rosalie suggested. "No conflicts, no trouble, no danger to speak of. They just meet, and fall into each other's arms."

Bella laughed. "It wouldn't make much of a love story, to be honest. Too easy; not enough drama. I'd have stopped reading halfway through!"

"No," I agreed. "But absolutely ideal for real life; don't you think?"


End file.
